


I, Alone

by EJDaniels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 247,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EJDaniels/pseuds/EJDaniels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can a child, raised to believe that he is worth little more than the dirt he sleeps upon, find the courage to rise up and face his destiny or will the weight of the entire Wizarding world that rests upon his small shoulder be the final straw that breaks him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On The Hogwarts Express

 

"Draco," Lucius Malfoy's voice was stern as he addressed his son, "are you certain you have everything then?" Draco nodded, a slightly bored expression upon his youthful features, having just answered the very same question from his mother, Narcissa, only moments before.

This would be the young Malfoy's first year attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Draco's grey eyes darted about observing the other students as they loaded their chests upon the waiting crimson Hogwarts Express.

"I expect for you to be the head of your class," Lucius continued, unaware that he only held half the boy's attention. "When I was in Slytherin it was a wonderful time," the elder Malfoy shared, a wistful look upon his pale features as he recalled a moment from his youth. "Making alliances to secure my position within the house hierarchy, weeding out those unworthy of being associated with and tormenting those that were anything other than Purebloods! Good times!" Lucius exclaimed with a wicked gleam in his grey eyes. "I expect no less of you, Draco," he stated as he clamped one heavy hand upon his son's shoulder, nearly knocking him over in the process.

"I understand, Father," Draco replied once he had his balance again and could look up and into his father's eyes. _I won't let you down_ , he silently vowed with every ounce of sincerity that an eleven year old boy could muster. "I've already ensnared the sons of the Crabbe and Goyle families who are also starting this year. Once I'm sorted into Slytherin I'm certain it won't take long to find others." Draco watched as his father nodded approvingly at his sons actions. "Father," Draco licked his lips once before nervously continuing. "About the Greengrass matter….," the youths words trailed off.

"I am still working on it," Lucius responded as he dropped his hand from his son's shoulder. "For now just do your best to make us proud and let me worry about that." At that moment two twin redheaded boys rushed past the Malfoy's in a hurry. Lucius and Draco both stood there and watched as they began talking excitedly to their mother and younger siblings. Lucius looked on disdainfully. "Weasleys. You would never guess they were actually pureblood's. The poorest of the poor," he added with a sneer that clearly showed his dislike of the entire lot of them. "Certainly not the type you'll want to associate with, Draco."

"It looks as if their younger brother will be starting this year," Draco stated, taking note of the youngest red head boy and what was on his cart. "Can't they even buy descent clothes?" Draco quipped upon noticing the worn outfit the youngest boy wore.

"They'll let anyone into Hogwarts these days," Lucius replied turning away in disgust. "Can't even afford proper clothes for their children there are so many of them," Lucius added to his son's comment noting what were obviously hand-me-down robes worn by the youngest boy.

"Enough, the both of you," Narcissa scolded as she stepped forward and enveloped her son in a warm and surprisingly loving embrace. "If you don't hurry and get aboard you'll miss the train," she said even as the steam whistle blasted out a warning for everyone to climb aboard. "I'll expect regular letters from you, Draco," the Malfoy Matriarch told her son in such a tone that he knew there would be dire consequences should the requested letters fail to reach her.

"I will, Mother," Draco replied, giving his mother a slightly embarrassed hug in return. "As often as studies allow me." Being his first extended trip away from home for any great length of time, he couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as well as a touch of trepidation.

"I would think that one a week would not be too great a burden upon you," Narcissa said as she stepped back and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief that had appeared from a pocket. This would be the first time that her only child would be away from home. She had argued long and hard with her husband to convince him to send their son to Hogwarts. Lucius had at first intended Draco to attend school at Durmstrang, with its rigorous and discriminating admission process. The senior Malfoy wanted his son to only associate with other Purebloods. Durmstrang was well known for not allowing muggle-born to enroll. Narcissa was finally able to convince Lucius that Durmstrang, being in northern Norway, was too far away from them and that it would be better to have Draco closer to home. ' _There will be plenty of time for him to see the world once he has graduated_ ' she had told her husband.

Draco made his way through the multitude of other students and parents who were each saying their goodbyes in their own fashion. His own farewell from his father had consisted of a handshake and a stern warning to be better than everyone else no matter what. As the pale younger Malfoy neared the train he saw Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle standing near the entrance to the second car. The first train car was reserved for the Prefects of the different houses of Hogwarts.

"Crabbe, Goyle," he snapped sternly, attempting to mimic the tone of voice his father had used when addressing him. "I want the two of you to enter at the last car. Once we're out of the station move forward and search each compartment," Malfoy instructed them in a no nonsense tone, ignoring the surprised looks upon their faces. "I want you to find a blonde girl, who answers to the name of Daphne, it is important that I see her. Once you've located her come and get me."

"Why do you want to see a girl," Crabbe asked, his large round face creasing in puzzlement.

Draco smiled. "If all goes well she will soon be my intended," he told the two of them.

"Intended?" Goyle asked, confused as to what his new blonde friend meant by those words.

Draco sighed heavily, wondering just how long it would be before he could make others….more gifted beneath their scalps, assist him. "Intended. As in fiancé. Soon to be wife." The two other boys smiled knowingly for a brief second before realizing they had no clue why Draco would want to get married. "Never mind the reason," Draco exclaimed, the limit of his patience about reached, "Just find her and then come and get me!" Crabbe and Goyle hurried off to do as instructed as both had been told by their fathers to follow the lead of the young Malfoy heir.

Draco watched the two boys start to make their way through the throng of people before he turned and boarded the train. Opening the door to the first compartment he took a seat closest to the window and watched the people outside with disdain. Being in the compartment that was directly next to the school Prefects was a clear indication that he himself was but a step away from being one he felt. It wasn't long though before his thoughts were once more upon the task he had set for Crabbe and Goyle. _As soon as they find Daphne I'll go and introduce myself. Father can handle the negotiations; however that doesn't mean that I can't start things on my end as well_ , he surmised.

The train whistle blew two quick blasts, signaling its imminent departure. As Draco waited for the return of Crabbe and Goyle his attention was drawn to the passageway just as a red haired boy and a dark haired girl, both older and wearing Prefect badges on their robes, walked past.

"Fred and George both claim that they spoke with him," the older boy exclaimed as if trying to substantiate his claim. "They even helped him get his trunk onboard."

The girl paused right outside the opened doorway to the compartment Draco was in and turned to regard the trailing boy in disbelief. "Are you certain they weren't just having a go at you, Percy? Harry Potter? On the train to Hogwarts?" The girl rolled her eyes in disbelief, a patronizing grin creeping onto her lips as she turned to continue on down the passageway.

Draco listened as the boy tried to convince the girl till they were out of hearing distance. "Harry Potter's come to Hogwarts?" Draco mused aloud to himself with a thoughtful grin of his own. "I'll have to make certain that father hears of this. I'm certain he'll want us to become acquainted."

**-oOo-**

"It all looks so…normal," Niles Granger commented to his wife Emma as they stood upon platform 9 ¾ and looked around them with wide muggle eyes.

"Really Niles," Emma said with a soft smile as she rested her hand upon his forearm, "whatever did you expect?" Always the more sensible of the two she couldn't help but find humor in her husband's behavior.

"I don't know," the elder Granger replied with a shrug of his shoulders as he looked to his wife. "Something a bit more…magical?" he confessed with a wink towards his daughter. Hermione rolled her eyes at her parents even as the love she felt for them warmed her chest.

On the day it had happened she had been more than a little surprised to return home to find a stately woman with a stern demeanor speaking to her parents. The elderly visitor was a certain Professor McGonagall who had arrived to inform the Grangers of the acceptance of their daughter to the school at which the Professor taught. Hermione, much like her parents, was shocked into silence upon learning that she was a witch. It hadn't taken her long to warm to the idea nor to read through the _Hogwarts Student Handbook_ that the professor had provided along with _An Introduction To Magic and the Wizarding World, fifth edition_ , which explained about the new world the young witch-to-be would be embarking into.

"There are rules concerning the use of magic where the non-magical can see it," Hermione informed her parents. The academically inclined youngster had read all about it in _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot, one of the books required for first year students. She knew that her parents were known as 'muggles' in the Wizarding world she was now a part of, however she didn't like the feel of the word as it slipped off her tongue. _It has a very derogative feel to it_ , she told herself after having said it several times to try it out. _It's as if they are being addressed as something less than everyone who can do magic_.

"That makes perfect sense," Niles replied with a slight nodding of his head in agreement, though with the rules or the information supplied by the young witch, neither Hermione nor her mother knew for certain.

"You have everything you need?" Emma asked of her daughter as she stepped to the young girl and absently ran her fingers affectionately through the soft bushy brown hair. "You'll write and tell us all about the school?" Emma enquired as she gently cupped the young girl's cheek.

"As often as I can, Mum," Hermione promised as she smiled lovingly up at the woman before her. The steam whistle blew signaling that it was nearly time to leave. Now that the moment was upon her she suddenly found that she didn't want to leave. "Remember to watch for an owl with a letter tied to its talons," she reminded her mother. "I read it's helpful to have a treat for them as a way of thanking them," she added, wanting to drag out the goodbye for as long as possible.

"We have the treats we picked up while getting your school stuff," Niles stated as he stepped up and slipped his arm around his wife's waist while resting his other hand on his daughters shoulder. "We managed to raise you so I think we can manage a treat or two for a bird," he added with an infectious smile.

Hermione glanced nervously towards the train and then back at both her parents. "What if it's just like before? What if I can't…," her words trailed off nervously even as she unconsciously started to wring her hands in front of her robes.

"You'll be fine," Emma stated, leaning down and hugging her daughter to her for a long moment. When she finally released her daughter she had to rapidly blink several times to keep the tears at bay. "These are children just like you, honey. They are witches and wizards so I'm certain you'll make friends this time," Hermione's mother assured her. "What's not to love about you?"

"We've always known that you were special," Niles offered in a gruff voice, heavy with emotion as he took his turn and embraced his daughter tightly. Hermione was shocked to see her father's eyes sparkle with unshed tears when he released her. "Now go be magical," he told her with a forced smile and a slight shooing motion towards the train.

Hermione smiled, suddenly finding herself choked up with emotions. Leaping forwards she threw an arm around each of their waists and hugged them as hard as she could. "I love you both so much!" she said loud enough for them to hear before turning and dashing towards the waiting train without looking back. Emma and Niles both watched their daughter board the train as they absently wiped tears from their cheeks.

Hermione hastily entered the train and turned the corner into the walkway and nearly collided with a dark haired boy wearing a worried expression. "You haven't seen a toad have you?" he asked in a slightly desperate tone.

"I only just stepped on," Hermione informed him of even as she glanced down at the flooring as if expecting the toad in question to suddenly be there. "Should I have?" Hermione asked, uncertain of what exactly to expect on a train bound for a magical school.

"He's run off again," the boy told her. "His name's Trevor. I'm Neville, Neville Longbottom."

"Charmed," Hermione replied holding out a hand which Neville took and shook once. "Hermione Granger. I'll help you look for him," she offered. "He couldn't have gone far I'd imagine."

"Thanks," Neville replied with a clear note of relief in his voice. "I'll look this way if you could go that way?" he asked indicating the back half of the train.

Hermione gave a nod while offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Stepping down the passageway she knocked on the first compartment door she came to before opening it and sticking her head in. "Have you seen a toad by chance?" she asked of the occupants.

**-oOo-**

"I want to go to Hogwarts, Mommy," whined the childish voice of Astoria Greengrass as she bounced about tugging on Abigail Greengrass's arm incessantly. "Please, please can I go?"

"Behave yourself, Astoria," the girl's father admonished his youngest daughter who was starting to draw stares from others standing upon the platform. While Astoria did settle down it didn't prevent her from staring up at her mother with pleading eyes.

"Malcolm, she's just excited is all," Abigail offered as she drew the smaller girl towards her by wrapping an arm around Astoria's shoulders and pulling her close against one hip, protectively.

"Don't coddle her, Abbie," Malcolm replied as his disapproving eyes fell upon his wife for a brief moment before once again returning to the milling throng of people upon the platform. "You'll only spoil her more."

Daphne turned to her sister, hoping to play interference between the younger girl and her father. "You still have a couple of years before you can join me," Daphne said with an understanding smile as she gently patted her younger sister's shoulder in sympathy. "Enjoy being young while you can. Before you know it you'll be buried in homework."

Astoria turned about within her mother's grasp to face her sister, while leaning against the woman who gave birth to her. Astoria's small hands pulled her mother's arm down to beneath her chin and then hung onto it as if she was afraid to let it go. "But you're going to be gone for so long!" pouted the youngest of the sisters with a protruding bottom lip.

"I know," Daphne replied, her expression saddening even though she found the look on her sister's face to be adorably cute. As sisters went, the two of them were extremely close to each other. They weren't just sisters but also the best of friends. "I'll miss you too, Brat," Daphne assured her, forcing her lips into a smile even as she brushed strands of blonde hair behind one ear.

Astoria stuck her tongue out in way of reply but Daphne could see the younger girl's blue eyes, which so resembled her own, brimming with unshed tears. "I'll write you and tell you all about Hogwarts so you'll know what to expect when it's your turn to go," Daphne offered, hoping to forestall a flood of tears.

"Really?" Astoria exclaimed perking up upon hearing this and seeing her sister nod that she would. "Then I'll write back and tell you everything that is happening at home," Astoria offered as a smile blossomed upon her face at the thought of being pen pals with her sister.

Daphne grinned; doubting that there would be enough excitement at their house to fill up an entire letter, let alone keeping up a steady stream of them. "That would be wonderful!" she none the less replied. Seeing her little sister's eyes widen with excitement assured her that her response had been the correct one.

"Have everything you need, my love?" Abigail asked for the countless time that morning. Seeing her daughter nod that she did, Abigail smiled weakly, suddenly wondering where her baby had gone and who was this girl before her poised upon the cusp of womanhood. "I hope you'll write me as well," she offered in attempt at levity even as she pushed stray strands of soft blonde hair behind one ear. A gesture that mimicked her daughter's so closely that it was clear where the younger had acquired it from.

"You know I shall," Daphne replied as she stepped forward and hugged her mother even as the train's whistle sounded, signaling it was near time to depart. Daphne's chest suddenly tightened as she felt her younger sister's arms wraparound her waist and squeeze her tightly. "Take care of him," she whispered to the both of them before stepping back. She knew that they would understand her request. While her father was stern and demanding she knew that he loved his family dearly and often over worked himself to ensure they had every luxury and amenity that galleons could buy.

Malcolm Greengrass cleared his throat and glanced away uncomfortably from the three most important people in his life clinging to each other. "It's about that time," he intoned to no one in particular even as Daphne released her mother and tried to separate herself from her weeping younger sister.

"I guess it is," Daphne replied even as her mother held onto Astoria who was squirming about in an attempt to obtain another hug. Daphne's blue eyes stared up and into her father's eyes, which mirrored his daughter's own eyes. The eldest Grenngrass sibling had inherited her mother's hair but like her sister they both had their father's eyes. Daphne saw the love in his eyes as he regarded her, a love that he would not openly show in public. Stepping forward she wrapped her suddenly small arms around his waist and hugged her father tightly. "I love you, Papa," she told him.

"Yes…well…," Malcolm replied clearing his throat as he patted his daughter's back several times before his oldest child stepped away. "If there is anything you need…," he tried to say only to feel his throat become clogged with emotions he did his best to hide.

"I know," Daphne replied with a smile as she turned away and walked the short distance to the waiting train car. Just before stepping onto the train she turned about to offer her family one last smile and wave goodbye. Seeing the tears on her mother and sister's cheeks Daphne quickly turned and boarded the car blinking rapidly herself lest she start to cry as well.

"There you are, Greengrass!" Pansy Parkinson said in an exasperated voice, startling Daphne who looked at the other girl quizzically. "I've been looking all over for you," Pansy explained. "Davis is holding a compartment for us. It's this way," the dark haired girl said over her shoulder as she started off without even ensuring that Daphne was following her.

Daphne, left with little choice, followed after the retreating girl. Upon reaching the compartment Daphne smiled seeing Tracey Davis, her childhood friend, waving to her through the glass even before Pansy could open the door. Tracey sat on one side of the compartment dressed in her Hogwarts uniform with her auburn hair pulled back into her typical ponytail.

"I found her just getting on the train," Pansy offered as she flopped down onto the seat next to another girl that Daphne didn't recognize. "This is Millicent Bulstrode," the dark haired girl offered as she jerked her thumb towards the girl next to her. "She's a first year as well," Pansy added.

"Daphne Greengrass," Daphne offered in way of greeting as she took the seat next to Tracey and received a nod from the slightly heavy set girl Pansy had just introduced to her.

"What took you so long?" Tracey asked her friend after nudging Daphne's arm to get her attention. "I waited on the platform for you but then feared we wouldn't get a seat together," Tracey said with reproachful brown eyes.

"Astoria," Daphne stated apologetically to which Tracey chuckled. "My sister, who's younger than me by two years, wanted to come along," Daphne explained upon seeing the confused expressions of the two girls seated across from her.

"I bet she couldn't bear the thought of being separated from you for so long," Tracey said teasingly. Having been the blonde girl's friend for so long she was well aware of just how close the siblings were to each other.

"Something like that," Daphne replied halfheartedly as she sat back in the seat as the train whistle blew twice. _I'll miss her just as much as she'll miss me_ , she thought to herself. _Possibly even more_ , she realized sadly.

Conversation soon turned to what they each had done during their final summer weeks. Millicent had traveled to Germany to visit relatives there for several weeks. Pansy told them about her trip with her parents to France and all the shopping she had done while there. Tracey readily admitted to doing most of nothing but lounging about the house. After some coaxing, Daphne admitted to having spent the final two weeks of her time reading her school books so as to get a jump on her studies. Though blushing in embarrassment at first, she was soon laughing with the other three girls who took turns calling her bookworm, teacher's pet and other such terms.

It wasn't long before the train pulled away from the platform and out of the station. The four girls sat and speculated on what Hogwarts would be like. They each took turns retelling different stories they had heard from their parents or other relatives who were alumni of the school. In this manner time passed and soon they left the London cityscape for the English country side which rolled past outside the train window mostly unnoticed by the four of them.

Their conversation came to an abrupt halt as the door to their compartment was suddenly opened to reveal two rather large boys who were suddenly eyeing Daphne. All four girls turned to regard the interruption, their eyes narrowing upon seeing the boys. "Are you Daphne?" one of the boys demanded, looking towards the only blonde in the room hopefully.

"What if she is?" Tracey asked defensively before Daphne could open her mouth. "What's it to you?" she asked with her eyes narrowing menacingly.

The pudgier of the two who had spoken shrugged slightly. "Nothing. I was told to find her is all," he replied looking slightly scared in the face of the open hostility being directed at him. While he and Goyle had been told to find Daphne he had never expect to have to do so in front of a bunch of other girls. From the manner in which Goyle was fidgeting behind him Vincent Crabbe knew that his friend felt much the same as he did. "We'll be going now," Crabbe hastily added before moistening his suddenly dry lips and pulling the door closed once again.

"What was that all about?" Tracey asked as they all watched the two boys hurry off in the direction of the front of the train. Not sure what to make of it Daphne could do little more than shrug.

Pansy stood up and glanced to Millicent who then rose as well. "Well, we're off to find the cart with all the sweets on it. Do either of you want anything?" Seeing both seated girls decline Pansy, followed closely by the other girl left the compartment.

Daphne watched the two girls leave before turning to face her friend only to see Tracey with a questioning look upon her face. "What? I really done know," she reiterated, suddenly wishing that she did know.

**-oOo-**

The steady clacking of the train's steel wheels as they meandered along the tracks set a smooth and steady tempo which he found both soothing as well as comforting. It was the closest thing to a lullaby that he had ever heard, not that he recalled every having heard one before.

The repetitive swaying of the box car was relaxing and lured him into a peaceful state of being. While he wasn't dozing, it was as near as one could get without actually nodding off. Gazing out, through hooded eyes, upon the country side as the train rolled down the tracks he couldn't help but smile to himself, enjoying the view and the sense of freedom he felt.

Being born and raised in the suburbs, this was something new to him after all. The wide expanses of greenery dotted here and there by clumps of trees or precisely planted and maintained fields of crops. He inhaled deeply; enjoying the crisp early afternoon air with its slight scent of wood smoke which he assumed was derived from the great steam engine up ahead, pulling the train ever closer to their destination. The sun was warm against his cheeks even as the wind buffed those very same cheeks a healthy shade of pink.

He was more than a little glad that he had changed into his school robes, the stylized emblem with its pretty _H_ front and center. He assumed that the _H_ stood for the name of the school he was en route to, Hogwarts. If not for the thickness of the robe, with its many inner pockets of which he had no clue why there were so many, he was certain he would be far colder than he currently was. That added with the new trousers, shirt and shoes, all part of the required school uniform of Hogwarts, he was as warm as one could be while riding atop a train car he surmised.

 _I could get used to this_ , he thought silently to himself while allowing a small grin to crease his thin lips. _No Dudley to pester me or get me in trouble. No one to holler at me to do this or do that!_ Leaning back upon his hands, arms to either side of him to support his weight, he tilted his head back and looked up as the blue, nearly cloudless, sky above the speeding train as his mind wondered back over the events which led him to this current point in time.

It had been the best, as well as the worst, birthday he had ever experienced. The entire day, starting with the long trip, rushed though it was and with very little to eat, had been amusing to say the least for the soon to be eleven year old boy. He had secretly found it humorous hearing Dudley whine and complain for having to miss a meal or two. He had gone without more meals than he could count over the short eleven years of his life and yet here he was no worse for wear. _Dudley can do with missing a few meals_ , he mused thinking of his heavy cousin and the fact that a loss of weight would probably do him good. At the time, listening to his cousin suffering had seemed like the best birthday present ever.

He couldn't help but shiver upon recalling the night spent out upon the little island of rock thrust out into the ocean. Once the tide had shifted there was nothing left to do but settle down and hope for the best of it. The lighthouse they stayed at had been so old and rickety that its walls did very little to stop the wind from passing through in a loud whistling noise that took some time to grow used to.

Covered with little more than an old blanket he had lain quietly upon the stone floor and counted off the final minute till his birthday. The loud pounding and subsequent crashing of the door when it fell in that night resounded loudly within his ears as if he could hear it once again. Blinking rapidly, as his attention was returned once more to the present as he heard the train car door behind him slam loudly. Scooting forward till he was near the edge of the car he looked down only to see a petite girl with blonde hair held back by a black headband, dressed in a Hogwarts uniform but without her robes. Even as he watched the girl nervously looked about before turning and peeking through the window of the door she had apparently just stepped through.

**-oOo-**

_Why will he not leave me be?_ Daphne pondered as she looked back through the glass of the window next to the door. In the next car up from the one she had just left she spied the Malfoy boy who paused to stick his head into one of the compartments and speak with those within. Turning back around, she leaned against the door with her eyes closed, glad that the curtain was pulled mostly down so she couldn't readably be seen from within.

The loud clacking of the train wheels as they rolled along the tracks frightened her more than a little. A fact she hated to admit. The constant swaying of the box car meant that the small narrow platform upon which she stood also swayed back and forth. This, more than any other reason, was why she still retained a grip upon the door handle that caused the knuckles on her hand to shine white.

It had taken all of her will to step from the car she had been seated in to the one she had just left. Now faced once again with the task of moving from one car to another she suddenly found herself unable to move. Though the distance between the platforms on both cars was relatively small, she couldn't keep from imagining herself falling through into a very painful and messy death beneath the wheels of the train. The fact that there was a walkway with metal handrails did little to dispel her life ending delusion.

She had been sitting with her friend Tracey Davis when a blonde-haired boy, trailed by two others that were prime examples of boys her mother had warned her to stay away from, had entered the compartment and seated himself next to her with a smile upon his pale lips. "Malfoy," he had said as she turned to regard him. "Draco Malfoy," the boy introduced himself, all but ignoring her friend Tracey.

 _What a presumptuous name_ , she had thought to herself upon hearing his introduction. "No need to introduce yourself," he continued to inform her, "You are that Greengrass girl, Daphne," he stated, one brow lifting as if in expectation of being praised for knowing who she was. "We're certain to get along smashingly well!" he added in a knowingly conceited tone of voice that grated on her nerves.

"Ms. Greengrass to you, Mr. …I'm sorry, Malfoy, was it?" she asked him in an aloof and chillingly cold tone of voice to ensure she had his name correct. She had heard her mother use this tone of voice on more than one occasion. Usually the elder Greengrass reserved it for when someone was being bothersome as tended to happen often.

Being of one of the older houses her parents were often required to attend social gatherings with their peers. Daphne, at a young age, had learned that during such events her mother would often slip into this other persona. As she herself grew older and was allowed to attend the same functions she had cultivated a similar façade to help her deal with bothersome boys her age.

 _If ever there was a call for it, now is the time_ , Daphne reasoned. "Please do not think that just because you are aware of whom I am that it grants you the privilege to assume liberties with my name or person," she explained even as she looked away, her eyes slipped to her childhood friend, Tracey Davis, seated across from her.

Tracey Davis had known the blonde girl since they were wee little ones and Daphne knew that she never tired of watching her dress down others, especially rich and snotty boys, who felt they could be as familiar as they wished with her or her family. The Greengrass line was both old as well as well-respected in the Wizarding world and hence there was a certain level of decorum that was expected when addressing them. Judging by the expression on Tracey's face, she too had recognized the two other boys as the ones who had come by earlier searching for her, only to quickly leave upon being confronted by four girls who were less than thrilled by the interruption.

"Anyone who happens to read that rag the Daily Prophet will no doubt know my family as well as my name," Daphne continued in the same cold and dispassionate voice she had started with. "I hardly believe that means I am to be friends with all of them. Why would I ever want to be associated with the likes of you?" Daphne inquired as she turned back to regard the boy, her blue eyes barely seeing him as she stared through him.

Daphne noted with some measurement of a thrill that Malfoy's face was no longer cocky and so sure of himself. The bright smile had dipped considerably and he wore more of a long look of confusion as if he wasn't certain if this was actually happening or some horrible joke gone awry.

"Well," came the first tentative word even as the young heir to the Malfoy lineage ran a nervous hand through his near white silky strands, "There are no doubt any amount of unsavory persons here. My father tells me that they'll let anyone into this school these days. Even mudbloods!" he exclaimed with a look of utter disbelief appearing upon his features. "We purebloods need to tend to our own."

"Yes I see," Daphne said as she got to her feet and nodded for Tracey to do as well. "All manner of unsavory beings," she agreed shooting him a pointed look which was clearly wasted on him as well as the two boys with him. "If you'll excuse us, we were on our way to freshen up. All this activity today has put us rather out of sorts," she said with a forced smile that never came near her eyes. "I'm certain you understand, Mr. Malfoy?" she enquired, one delicate brow rising slightly in question only for a moment before she stepped towards to door only to pause as it was blocked by the two other boys.

"If you like I can have Crabbe and Goyle here escort you?" Malfoy offered as he stood and motioned to the others to step aside, shooting them an angry glare that they hadn't moved on their own accord rather than continuing to block the doorway.

Daphne motioned for Tracey to precede her into the narrow passageway between compartments. "That won't be necessary. I believe we have seen enough of them for one day. I hardly doubt that we will get lost between here and there," she informed him politely as she followed her friend out into the corridor. "Please feel free to return to your own compartment, Mr. Malfoy and do take these with you," she added as her blue eyes glanced at Crabbe and Goyle. Without further words she followed Tracey in the direction of the facilities.

As soon as the two of them entered the loo and the door closed behind them Tracey spun about and hugged her friend, letting out a loud squeal of delight. "That was simply stupendously brilliant!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Merlin's beard I wish I could do something like that!"

"I think I'm going to be ill," Daphne said as she pushed past her friend and turned on the tap to splash some cold water on her face.

"Did you see the look on his face?" Tracey continued on, pulling a towel from a shelf and holding it out to Daphne. "Those were the two from earlier that were looking for you."

"I probably shouldn't have done that," Daphne replied, accepting the offered towel. "I hate being like that," she confessed. While she could admit to it being a valuable skill at times the whole _aloof_ persona made her stomach queasy. "The Malfoy family is as old as mine. Should that get back to his father I am certain mine will hear of it as well," Daphne said a bit worried.

"Don't worry," Tracey offered in an attempt to be supportive. "I doubt he'll say anything to anyone. He's probably swearing those other two to secrecy right now to save himself from embarrassment. As long as we're not sorted into the same house as him you should be fine," she added with a reassuring smile. Daphne simply nodded as she finished drying her face and hands. "Come on, let's go have a seat and see what Pansy and Millicent bring back with them." Opening the door Tracey looked down the passageway and groaned before stepping back to be shielded from view by the open door.

"What is it?" Daphne asked from behind her friend as she nearly stumbled into the retreating girl's back.

Tracey turned to face her friend with an angry scowl. "The little prat is waiting for you," she informed the blonde. Tracey held the door open, thankful that it blocked most of the passage way and moved aside enough for Daphne to have a quick look. Crabbe and Goyle were still standing in the passageway which could only mean that Malfoy had as yet to leave their compartment.

Seeing the anxious look upon her friends face Tracey nodded towards the rear door of the train car. "Why don't you slip out and find another compartment to sit in for a while and I'll stay in here to throw them off."

"What if they come and knock?" Daphne asked. She wasn't certain if a boy would actually have the audacity to knock upon the door to the girl's loo. Somehow she couldn't put it past the Malfoy boy to do just that. Daphne, while attending social events, always tried to avoid pompous self-entitled little brats such as Draco.

"I'll tell them you're not feeling well or something," Tracey whispered. "It should buy you enough time to find another compartment," she said with a slight shrug.

"Thanks, Tracey. I owe you," Daphne said before making her way to the rear door of the car. Tracey just smiled and waved her on. The young blonde slipped through the door and summoning her courage, hastily crossed the short walkway to the next car and entered it, pausing long enough to pull the curtains closed on the door as well as the windows beside it. It wasn't till she was walking down the aisle way that she realized what she had done. Upon reaching the end of the car and finding that all the compartments were full, she opened the rear door and stepped out onto the platform and suddenly could go no further.

"Now what do I do," she asked aloud glancing up towards the sky only to see a boy's head with a thick mane of disheveled black hair, bespectacled emerald eyes and a curious smile regarding her from the above the edge of the roof of the next car. "Hello," a befuddled Daphne somehow managed to say while staring upwards, at a loss for why there would be anyone up there.

"Hello," the boy replied with a slight tilting of his head in her direction causing his hair to hang down almost obscuring his eyes and blocking his sight.

Daphne took a sliding step forward, her hand releasing the door handle only after she had a firm grip upon the corner of the railing between the two cars. "How is it up there?"

The boy looked to either side before turning back to her once again. "A might better view than you have down there I should think," he finally replied.

Daphne glanced at the door behind her, knowing that it wouldn't be but another minute or so before that Malfoy boy would open it and catch her. Attached to the other car was a ladder which led up to the car top where the boy was. To get there she would have to cross the short space between the cars though. Daphne licked her lips nervously and returned her gaze to the boy above her. "Is there room for one more?"

"Loads," the boy assured her. "Care to join me?"

Summoning the remaining shreds of her courage Daphne stepped out onto the walkway between the cars, swaying back and forth with them. As quickly as possible she crossed the distance and grasped the closest rung to the ladder only to lean against it and rest her forehead against its cool metal for a moment.

Without really knowing how she did it the young blonde managed to get her feet upon the ladder and slowly climb. As she neared the top she suddenly saw a hand before her face. Grateful for it she quickly grasped the proffered member, feeling slightly reassured upon feeling the boy's firm grip on her fingers, before allowing herself to be assisted to the top of the car.

Daphne quickly grasped the boys arm with her other hand as the car beneath her swayed from side to side. With the assistance of the other student she took several steps forwards before her legs gave out and she collapsed to her knees and then onto her backside, tucking her trembling legs beside her. The wind was much stronger on top of the car than she had expected and threatened to blow her school skirt about in a very unladylike manner. Daphne quickly tucked the edges of the flapping skirt in. Even with her skirt tucked in safely under her legs she realized that the wind had a decisively colder bite to it.

"Here," the boys said kneeling down beside her at the same time as she felt the robes he had been wearing wrap around her shoulders and shelter her from the cold breeze. "It's colder up here than down below," he offered, tucking the robes around her till all of her was covered but her head.

Daphne suddenly tensed as she heard the door below open and close. Judging by the concerned looked upon the boy's face she realized that her own expression must have been giving away her anxiety. A few moments pasted before they both heard the door to the car beneath them open and close as the person entered it. Daphne breathed a heavy sigh of relief, only then realizing that she had been holding her breath.

"Thank you," she said as her eyes quickly looked over the boy, noting the new school uniform, messy hair and the shy manner in which he always glanced to the side. Never quite meeting her eyes or allowing her to get a clear look at his face. "Won't you be cold?" she asked even as she tightened her grip upon the robes wrapped around her hoping that he wouldn't ask for them back.

"No," the boy replied with a dismissive smile she could just barely discern due to the tilt of his head. "I'm used to wearing less than this so it doesn't really bother me much," he confessed. "I'm Harry by the way," he said offering a hand to her.

Daphne slipped a hand free of the cloak and shook his once, finding it cold to the touch. "Daphne," she replied before pulling the hand back in out of the wind, doubting that the boy had told her the truth about not minding the cold. "Why are you up here, Harry?"

The head of black hair lifted and turned away bashfully as the boy looked out over the lush country side the train was passing through. "I've never been out of the city before," he finally said. "It's beautiful out here. Everything is so green and…alive!" Harry exclaimed finally turning back and dropping his gaze only to regard Daphne from under his dark bangs. "That must make me sound a bit off I'd imagine?"

"I don't know. I guess," Daphne replied glancing about for the first time. "I've been on trips with my family before to the country side and never really noticed anything special about it." Daphne shrugged and felt something poke her in her side. Feeling around, her fingers finally located the wooden object and pulled out and from under the robes so she could see what it was though she was fairly certain she already knew. "Your wand?" she asked once her suspicions were confirmed and she could clearly see the object.

Harry simply nodded in answer to her question.

"What's it made out of," she enquired curiously as she gave it a practice flick, finding the length a bit long compared to her own which was only nine inches.

"The man at the shop said it was Holly," Harry told her.

"You got it at Ollivander's, right?" Daphne asked to which Harry nodded once again. "What's the core?"

"I think he said it was phoenix feather," Harry supplied.

Daphne arched a brow and then passed the wand to Harry. "You probably shouldn't let others handle your wand, Harry," she told him. "Most wizards wouldn't let their wands out of their grasp," she explained upon seeing his half hidden puzzled expression.

 _He needs a haircut_ , she silently pointed out only to realize that with all the wind her own hair must be a frightful mess. "My own wand is beechwood with a dragon heartstring core," she informed him as she slipped it from her sleeve and held it out to him.

"I thought it wasn't good to hand over your wand to someone else," Harry asked, slightly confused by her actions which contradicted what she had just told him.

"You allowed me to handle yours so I thought it only fair," Daphne told him as she wiggled the wand towards him to indicate that he should take it.

"That's alright," Harry replied, drawing his hands up towards his torso and away from her wand. Daphne waited a minute more before shrugging and putting her wand away.

They sat and talked for a while about school and what to expect. Daphne was shocked that he knew nothing about Hogwarts other than it was a school for witchcraft and wizardry. Sometimes they would sit in silence and just watch the country side slip past them and other times he would ask her about some aspect of the Wizarding world. He didn't ask questions about her and yet he didn't go on about himself either.

 _Perhaps he's just the shy quiet type_ , she reasoned. The few times she had asked something about him Harry had deflected the question onto some other topic without actually answering her. More than an hour had passed when her bottom started to hurt from sitting upon the hard surface of the roof.

"I think I should be heading back now," she finally informed him. Harry simply nodded and assisted her down the ladder, going before her so she wouldn't be as scared. _That's terribly sweet of him_ , she thought to herself as she eased herself down the ladder his arms on either side of her. "Right then," she said once they were safely on the platform again and she had removed his robes and handed them to him. "Thank you for the company as well as the view."

"Likewise," Harry replied as he slipped his robes back on. "That's the first time I've had someone to sit and talk with."

Daphne looked at him curiously. "You mean on this train?"

Harry shrugged a bit lopsided and offered her a sad smile before replying with, "Anywhere." With a quick wave goodbye of his hand, he climbed back up the ladder and disappeared back beyond the edge of the roof.

Daphne watched the boy disappear from sight before turning and entering the car. _He can't mean anywhere, anywhere_ , she told herself in disbelief. _He must be having a go at me_ , she reasoned. Lost in thought she didn't even remember crossing from that car to the next one till she nearly walked past the compartment that Tracey and the other two girls were sitting in worrying about her. After reassuring everyone that she had been hiding out in the girl's loo in one of the other cars she sat back in her seat.

"Now that we know that you're alright," Pansy opened with excitedly. "You'll never guess what we heard?" Both Daphne and Tracey looked at her expectantly. "When we were at the sweets cart waiting in line, the Prefect from Ravenclaw, I think her name was Clearwater, was in line before us," Pansy said warming to her story to the point that she slid to the front edge of her seat and leaned forward. "We overheard her telling a classmate with her that none other than The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, was spotted on the train!"

Tracey looked at the dark haired girl skeptically. "Are you certain she wasn't trying to have a bit of fun with some first years?"

Millicent shook her head as she replied, "No. We heard others mention it as well. It seems several people saw him just prior to leaving the platform."

Tracey stood up, "Then what are we sitting here for? Let's go see him! It's not every day we'll get to see a bloke as famous as The-Boy-Who-Lived!"

"That's just it," Pansy said as she slid back in her seat and made no motion to rise. "No one has been able to find him as yet!"

Tracey dropped back down in her seat, clearly disappointed. "Someone's just trying to have a tug at you is all," she said in a definitive tone of voice. "A boy that famous here, the entire train would know about it!"

Daphne didn't want to be the one to point out to her friend that apparently the entire train did know about it. As she sat there and listened to her friends argue the possibility of The-Boy-Who-Lived going to Hogwarts she suddenly gasped and sat up erect with a shocked look upon her face.

"What's up with you?" Tracey asked seeing Daphne's expression.

"Wh…what happened to that Malfoy boy?" she hesitantly asked to cover for herself. If her guess was right then she had just spent a considerable amount of time with the famous Boy-Who-Lived which no one could locate. _Why would Harry Potter be sitting atop a rail car?_ she couldn't help but wonder.

Tracey snickered softly before replying. "He and the other two finally got tired and returned to their own car I guess. I wouldn't worry about them for now." Tracey arched a brow glancing towards Daphne once again. "You certain you don't know why he would be pestering you?"

"Haven't a clue," Daphne replied sitting back with a huff while crossing her arms on her chest. Tracey turned back to her conversation with Pansy and Millicent, satisfied with her friend's response. Daphne tried to follow the conversation that the others were engaged in; however her thoughts kept returning to the sad little smile that Harry had worn just before he had turned away and climbed back up the ladder.


	2. The Sorting Hat

_Why does this always happen to me?_ Hermione glanced about the empty compartment, her brown eyes tinged with more than a hint of sadness. After discovering that Neville had located Trevor, his missing toad, she had found a vacant seat in the first compartment of the last car with three other first year girls and had asked to join them.

"Megan Jones," the girl seated next to Hermione offered with an infectious grin as the bushy haired young witch seated herself.

"Lisa Turpin," offered a rather thin girl with cracked glasses and a hesitant smile who was seated across from Megan. "I can't wait for classes to start!" she added with an excited little squeak to her voice.

"Pay her no mind, she's a bit of a bookworm," the third and final girl stated with a chuckle to show she was only teasing Lisa. "Lavender Brown," the girl introduced herself to Hermione with a warm welcoming smile that made her brown eyes sparkle in an inviting manner. Lavender extended her hand toward Hermione.

"Granger," Hermione responded accepting the warm hand into hers and shaking it gladly. "Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet all of you," Hermione added politely as her parents had taught her. _I'm doing it! I'm actually making friends!_ The young brunette quickly admonished herself so as not to get ahead of herself once again. _I've only just met them after all_. _They may not even like me_ , she suddenly thought, becoming worried by that possibility as she released the other girl's hand.

"I wonder how long it will take to get to Hogwarts," Lavender asked, returning her hand to her lap and turning to look out the window at the rows of houses that were passing by. The young girl's hair was perfectly brushed and seemed to shimmer as she moved where it flowed down across her shoulders and onto her chest.

Hermione watched the girl across from her, finding her very cute and far more mature appearing than her mere eleven years ought to have done. A fact she noted with a small amount of jealousy as she herself could never pull off that sort of look. "I suspect a fair amount of time," Hermione finally replied, turning to look out the window as well suddenly. "It's near Dufftown in Banffshire county which is up in the Scottish Highlands," she explained. "I would be surprised if it isn't dark by the time we arrive there given the distance and the speed at which this train travels."

"I didn't know that," chimed in Megan. "Was that in the student handbook?" she asked, referring to the location of Hogwarts.

"No, though it should have been," Hermione replied in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "You would think that it would be important for a student to know where exactly they were going to be attending school. If for no other reason other than to inform their parents." Hermione's brow creased in thought for a moment. "I may just have to mention that fact to the Headmaster or whoever is responsible for the printing of the school handbook."

"Wait, I think I read that in the beginning of _Hogwarts: a History_ ," offered Lisa with a furrowed brow as she tried to recall. While the studious girl had started reading the book on her own she hadn't as yet progressed very far into it.

"First chapter, second page, third paragraph," Hermione offered helpfully with a bright smile. "The first page mostly talks about the founders Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin and how they decided on where to build the school. Apparently one of them had a dream concerning a warthog standing upon a hill overlooking a lake," the smart witch rattled on to the others.

All three girls suddenly stared at her with their mouths opened to varying degrees and looks of disbelief upon their faces. Lavender Brown was the first who managed to give voice to what they were all thinking. "I'm amazed that you could recall all that, Hermione!"

"Well I had time before school started and I wanted to know about the place I would be attending classes," she tried to explain, suddenly getting embarrassed and dropping her gaze to her lap. "So I might have read it a time or three," she finished with, in little more than a whisper.

"You didn't read all of your books that many times did you?" enquired Megan suddenly with a look of utter disbelief. "That would just be mental!"

"I only managed to make it half way through _Hogwarts: a History_ ," Lisa said, shocked that Hermione had read the large book three times.

"No. No," Hermione turned and looked towards Megan before she answered her fellow first year's question. "There wasn't nearly enough time to read all the books three times," Hermione assured the girl. "I only read each of them once, though I would have loved to given them a once over again," she confessed in a secretive voice as if admitting to some guilty pleasure.

"Wait," Lavender exclaimed excitedly, "do you recall any of the spells that we'll be learning this year?" Seeing the bushy-haired girl nod once slightly, Lavender pressed on with her request. "Can you show us some magic?"

"We're not allowed to use magic at home but it should be alright here on the train," Hermione replied after a thoughtful pause. "What would be an easy one?" she pondered as she drew her wand out from inside her robes. Looking about the compartment for a moment she saw the perfect thing. There was a small crack in the lens of Lisa's glasses. "Hold still," she instructed the bespectacled girl. " _Oculus Reparo_ ," Hermione intoned with a wave of her wand before Lisa could move. The crack in the lens of the glasses seemed to shrivel up and then suddenly disappear with a soft little popping noise. "I'm glad that worked. I tried to modify the _Reparo_ charm to make it work with your glasses," she told the three gobsmacked girls as if it was the most normal of things to do.

"Wicked!" Lavender exclaimed excitedly as she clapped her hands before her chest once. "You modified the charm all on your own," she added in an amazed tone. Lavender couldn't help but feel that even though she was a first year herself, she was far behind Hermione as far as magical abilities went.

"Thanks," Lisa offered softly as she removed her glasses and inspected them. "I was wondering how I was going to explain breaking my new glasses to my folks." Having read through the list of spells they would be learning, the studious girl knew that the _Reparo_ charm wouldn't be taught till much later in the year. The fact that Hermione had not only cast it on her first try but had also modified it, left her feeling more than a little lacking.

Hermione waved her hand in a dismissing gesture. "I'm sure any of you could have done that and much more," she said with a soft chuckle, certain that what she had done would be child's play to the other three. "My parents are both non-magical so I've never done magic before," she explained. "I'm sure you've done it loads of times? No?" she asked upon seeing their blank stares. Hermione listed off several spells she had read about and knew they would be learning that year. _If I can do them then they certainly can_ , she thought silently to herself. "None of them?" she enquired in a disbelieving tone upon seeing all three girls shake their heads.

"I think I'll go find the sweets cart," Megan suddenly said, breaking the awkward silence that had reigned for several long minutes in the compartment after Hermione's display of magic. Megan found it more than a little daunting the fact that a muggle-born witch who had only just discovered magic to be able to perform charms at that level. She had tried a few simple spells and hadn't met with any degree of success as yet.

"I'll go with you," Lavender offered as the other girl stood. "They may have something I want."

"I'll go too," Lisa stated, rising rather quickly so as not to be left behind. "I want some chocolate frogs before they're all sold out." The three girls quickly left the compartment, disappearing down the narrow aisle way and leaving Hermione there by herself.

After they had left Hermione looked about and realized that they had taken all of their possessions with them. A clear indication that they wouldn't be returning, she realized sadly. The bushy-haired witch sighed resignedly to herself. "Why is it always so difficult to make friends?" she asked aloud with a hint of frustration in her voice. Several more minutes passed while she sat there growing increasingly depressed.

Suddenly a boy stuck his head in the room, his eyes lighting up upon seeing who was seated there. "Have you seen Trevor," Neville Longbottom asked in an exasperated tone. "He's run off once again," Neville explained upon realizing it was Hermione.

"I'll help you look for him…Neville wasn't it?" Hermione asked with a slightly arched brow as she stood and faced the boy who nodded in answer to her question. Once Neville stepped back from the doorway so she could step out of the compartment, Hermione wistfully glanced down the aisle way towards the front of the train where the three girls had headed to. "Why don't we start at the rear of the car and make our way forward," she suggested to the dark haired boy.

"Thanks, Hermione," Neville offered with a relieved expression and a small thankful smile. "I don't know what happened," he continued with as he turned and followed the shorter girl towards the back of the train car. "We were sitting in the compartment here," he told her as he indicated a vacant room they just passed. Each train car had four compartments on each side for a total of eight per car. Neville had apparently been seated in the second one from the front on the opposite side of the train from the one Hermione had been seated in. "I set him down on the seat next to me so I could have a bit to eat and when I turned back he was gone!"

"Unless he's learned to open doors he couldn't have gone far," Hermione said over her shoulder in an attempt to be reassuring. "He would almost certainly have to be in this car somewhere," she added for good measure. Moving further down the aisle way the young witch had to use one hand to steady herself as the car rocked and swayed as it sped along the tracks.

Hermione stopped at the last compartment and knocked on the door, drawing the attention of the two boys seated within who were in the middle of a conversation. Opening the door she offered them an apologetic smile for the intrusion. "Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost his."

The redheaded boy seated on the left looked to the other occupant of the compartment seated across from him and then back towards her before shaking his head that they hadn't. Both boys were already dressed in their Hogwarts uniforms but were missing their robes at the moment.

"Are you doing magic?" Hermione suddenly asked as she noticed that the redheaded boy had his wand out with it pointed at a rat that was seated in his lap, happily eating what appeared to be part of a cornbeef sandwich. Stepping into the compartment she seated herself on the edge of the seat across from the boy and the rat. "I'm Hermione Granger," she introduced herself to the two of them. "This is Neville Longbottom, the owner of the escaped toad," she informed them while pointing towards Neville who had moved to stand in the doorway before offering them a small wave and a friendly smile.

"Seamus Finnigan," the boy next to Hermione said with a bit of an Irish lit to his words. "Me dad's a muggle and me mam's a witch. She didn't tell him till after they were wed," Seamus said with a wide grin. "A bit of a nasty shock for him it was when he found out."

"I can imagine," Hermione replied softly before turning to regard the redheaded boy seated across from them expectantly.

"Ron Weasley," the redhead stammered as his blue eyes shifted about nervously in an attempt to look anywhere but at Hermione. It wasn't that he disliked girls; he did have a younger sister after all. It was more that he wasn't used to any girls other than his sister and mother. Having been home schooled up to this point he had very little direct interaction with girls in general. Given that, he wasn't certain just how he should act around them. "This is Scabbers," he nervously added indicating the rat in his lap more in an attempt to shift the focus of attention away from himself.

"Charmed," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. "Well then, let's see it," she instructed him, indicating he should perform the spell.

" _Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!_ " Ron repeated the words he had learned and tapped his wand against his rat once more but nothing happened. "I don't understand. I said it just the way George and Fred told me to," he divulged to them, looking up with pleading eyes, hoping that they would believe him as he was telling them the truth.

"Are you sure that's a spell?" Hermione asked. "If it is it isn't a very good one," she continued with before Ron could muster a reply to her question. "Perhaps you did the gesture wrong," she offered helpfully. "If you'd like, once we're at school I can help you find a real charm to turn your rat yellow? Though why anyone would want a yellow rat is certainly beyond me!"

Ron just sat there and stared at Hermione, torn between the desire to learn a charm to turn Scabbers yellow and an unexplainable desire to stay away from the girl offering to help him. Her manner and brisk way of speaking all alluding to the fact that she might be one of those ' _know-it-all_ ' girls he had heard often resided in Ravenclaw. "Thanks," the confused redhead finally managed to mumble.

"Have you seen him yet?" Seamus asked, coming to the rescue of his new friend and drawing everyone's attention to himself in the process. Not that he minded one bit. Seamus prided himself on being both jovial as well as friendly and he enjoyed being in the middle of everything, even if he was a little loud and boisterous at times. _It's all part of being Irish_ , he often told himself. If the young Irish lad found himself the center of attention it was quite alright with him.

"Seen whom?" Hermione asked, momentarily distracted from the annoying redhead who had been staring at her, slack jawed and with a growing frightened expression upon his paling complexion. _Whatever is with that look?_ Hermione huffed to herself as she turned to regard Seamus.

"Why The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter of course!" Seamus exclaimed a bit excitedly unable to believe they hadn't heard. "He's on the train they're saying."

"Who?" Hermione asked in a puzzled tone as Neville slipped into the compartment and took the seat next to Ron. "My parents are dentists…non-magical," she offered in way of explanation of her ignorance. The bushy-haired young witch didn't appreciate the look of sympathetic understanding she received from Ron. Not one bit!

"No wonder," Ron said upon hearing her words. "That explains a lot," he added a little smugly only to receive a silencing glare from the only female present in the compartment.

"Do you know about the last Wizarding war," Seamus asked coming to Ron's rescue once again. The Irish boy paused, only continuing after seeing Hermione's nod that she knew of it. "Well there were those who stood up to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, among them were the Potters. You-Know-Who came for them and killed the Dad and the Mum but when he tried to kill their baby something happened."

"What?" Hermione asked shooting a quick glance to the other two boys and noticing a sad thoughtful look upon Neville's face as he stared at his hands in his lap. Before she could ponder that though, Seamus's voice drew her attention once more.

"That's just it, no one knows what happened," the Irish boy informed her. "He lived and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated. That's why he's called The-Boy-Who-Lived. He survived one of the unforgivable curses. Harry Potter is the only one ever known to have done so."

"How tragic," Hermione breathed as she stared out the window, feeling sorry for the boy in the story. _To lose both your parents in a single night_ , she thought, a small chill running down her spine as she imagined if it had been her parents who had been killed. _What a dreadful way to start one's life!_ Hermione's eyes stared out the window and suddenly noticed the shadow of the train car cast by the late afternoon sunlight. "What's that?" she asked pointing out the window.

All three boys quickly turned and looked out the window she was pointing at. Along the top of the shadow, plain for all to see was a lump of a shadow that contrasted with the smooth horizontal line of the car top. "Blimey! It looks like someone is sitting on top of the car." Seamus offered in disbelief.

"Or some _thing_ ," Ron offered, trying to hide the slight note of uneasiness in his voice.

"Why would someone be up there?" Neville's soft voice asked from where he had stood up to see past Ron. All of their thoughts were still upon the story they had just heard about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named so perhaps they allowed their fears to get the better of them. Without a word to each other they all moved closer together, huddled before the window. Unconsciously feeling safer as a group rather than as separate individuals.

As the four of them watched the disjointed lump of a shadow they took to be a seated person suddenly seemed to become elongated and grow in size and shape. As they stared in disbelief it became clear that whoever or whatever it was had stood up. A few moments pass while they all held their breaths before the shadow moved in the direction of the rear of the train, eventually passing from their field of view.

"Do you think they heard us?" Ron asked in a slightly frighten tone of voice as he turned his head to regard the other three questioningly, forgetting that there was a sturdy ceiling between them and whatever had been up there.

Hermione gave Ron an incredulous look for a long moment upon hearing the redhead's question. "Really, Ronald?" was all she said as she settled back into her seat lost in her own thoughts just as the others present appeared to be.

**-oOo-**

Harry lay upon the top of the car and gazed up at the clear blue sky. He had enjoyed the brief conversation with the girl who had introduced herself as Daphne. It had been the first time he had actually been able to just sit and carry on a conversation with someone who didn't hate him. Even when Hagrid had come to fetch him from the Dursley's on his eleventh birthday they hadn't spent a great deal of time talking. Their trip through the tube should have afford them an opportunity to speak, however when he had attempted to strike up a conversation about the Wizarding world Hagrid had warned him to be careful about what he said in front of Muggles.

Harry grinned as he recalled his first meeting with the half-giant. ' _You're a Wizard, Harry_ ' he had been told that night in the large bearded man's deep and excited voice that seemed to bounce off the surrounding walls when he spoke. Harry remembered pinching his leg, where no one could see, just to make certain he wasn't having some sort of strange dream. The remainder of that night and the next day were both rather unforgettable. It's not every day that a half giant knocks down your front door to wish you a happy birthday after all!

"So I'm a Wizard," he said aloud softly only to have his words torn away by the rushing wind as he lay upon the roof of the train car with his hands folded behind his head. _Just what does that mean_? It was that question, more than anything else that drove him to begin reading his school books. Where most boys his age would have found any reason at all to weasel out of doing school work, Harry looked forward to it. He had questions and he hoped he would find the answers within the pages of his new books. Not only that, he also had a passion for reading!

Early on in his young life he had learned that the best way to avoid being in trouble was not to be available for it to find him. He had discovered that not far from Number Four Privet Drive, where he lived with the Dursleys, there was a public Library. Within the pages of dusty old books the young boy could, for a short while, free himself from relatives that hated him and a life of indentured servitude. His childhood imagination combined with the words written on the pages allowed him to travel to foreign lands and far off distant worlds. Until he had boarded the Hogwarts Express that morning, only when his nose was buried in a book had he ever felt free.

In the month between his birthday and the start of school on the first of September, Harry spent every spare moment reading over the books that he had acquired for his first year, with the help of Hagrid after their trip to Gringotts. Harry knew that Dudley would just love the chance to run to his father to get Harry in trouble should the chubby boy see the books. He kept the books out of sight of the Dursleys as he feared what would happen should his uncle Vernon see them. The heavy set man would likely box his ears or might take them away. Even worse yet, he might destroy them!

The book by Adalbert Waffling titled _Magical Theory_ and _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ written by Quentin Trimble, were two of his favorites, directly behind _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ penned by Newt Scamander. He especially enjoyed _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Aresenius Jigger, but that could have been because he had just finished _A History of Magic_ authored by Bathilda Bagshot which had proven to be a constant struggle to stay awake while reading.

While the books were all very informative and would be a great help concerning the classes he would sit his first year, they did not answer any of the questions that echoed inside his young head. What was he doing here? What really happened to his parents? Why was he only now finding out that not only was he a wizard but that there was an entire Wizarding world out there of which he knew next to nothing about?

_At least at the Dursleys I knew what to expect_ , he told himself as he sat up and drew his knees close to his chest, huddling beneath his robes _. I thought I knew who I was. My parents had died in a car accident leaving me to be raised by my aunt and her family. Apparently that isn't the truth_ , he thought with a frown. It had taken some doing but he had finally managed to get Hagrid to tell him the truth concerning his folks, or at least more of the truth than he had previously known. The half-giant had felt that he had the right to know but that he himself really wasn't the best person to be telling him all the details.

_My Mother and Father died because of me_. Just thinking of them, even though he couldn't recall what they looked like nor any memory of them still caused his chest to hurt. _If V…Voldemort_ , his silent monologue continued, stumbling over the name slightly as he thought it, _hadn't been trying to kill me they would never have died_. Harry sighed, feeling his emotions and thoughts begin to swirl about in his head as they always did when he thought of these things. This was not the first time, since finding out the truth, he had thought of his parents and their fate.

After leaving Hagrid and returning to his cupboard under the stairs he had lain there depressed for several days. Harry's apparent depression was something that the Dursleys took great delight in, even if they didn't know the reason for it. _Maybe it would have been better off if I'd never been born_? He recalled thinking to himself at the time. He still wasn't to certain if that wouldn't have been better. _At least my parents would both still be alive_.

Harry sat with his arms wrapped around his knees as the sun crossed the sky and slowly started to dip towards the horizon. Like all the previous times over the course of the last month when his thoughts had traveled their present course, he was no closer to an answer than he had been before. With a resigned sigh The-Boy-Who-Lived got to his feet and slowly made his way towards the last car of the train, recklessly leaping across the opened space that separated the two cars.

Quickly walking across the top of the car he climbed down the ladder on the back of the train and seated himself upon the small platform there. As Harry watched the rails stretch out behind the train he thought back to the events that had started this day's adventure as well as the reason for his self-imposed isolation.

Earlier that morning when he had reach King's Cross Station; he had been dropped off by his uncle Vernon who had thrown Harry's stuff from the car with reckless abandon. Vernon had informed him in his typical whiny tone that he would be happy if he never saw Harry again, just before driving off as quickly as traffic would allow.

Harry was in the process of piling his belongings upon a trolley when he was fortunate enough to see a family of redheads pass by and overhear their mother mention the word 'muggles'. He quickly gathered the remainder of his things and gave chase, staying what he believed to be a discrete distance behind them. It was only through following them and observing what they did that he managed to make it onto platform Nine and Three-Quarters at all. It had taken a considerable amount of courage on his part to run at the apparently solid looking wall. It was only the fact that he had just seen the others run through it that allowed him to have the belief that he too would make it through as they had.

He figured that for his own wellbeing he should probably be the furthest away from everyone else so he had pushed the trolley with his school items on it to the very end of the train only to discover that the last car was only for luggage. _If Uncle Vernon was here I'm certain he'd want me to ride in the baggage car just so there would be no '_ funny business _'_. While he stood there wondering if he should try that or find an actual compartment, twin redheaded boys came up pushing their own trolleys and introduced themselves as Fred and George.

"This must be your first year," Fred said as he pulled his trolley to a stop next to Harry's.

"He looks a bit lost he does, George," George added as he brought his trolley to a stop on the other side of Harry's. The twins moved to stand together so that Harry wouldn't have to look back and forth between them.

"That he does, Fred. It near breaks my heart to see him like this!" Fred responded with dramatically but with a tint of humor in his tone. "What with this being his first year and all."

Harry looked in disbelief from one to the other quickly. "You…you're-"

"Weasleys! George and Fred at your service," the brothers said in unison with matching grins before Harry could continue.

Harry shook his head slightly as he finished what he had been about to say, "No, I was going to say twins."

"He's a right sharp one he is, George," George said as he nudged Fred with his elbow.

"Fred, I think we'll need to keep a close eye on this one," Fred replied with a thoughtful nod of his head.

"He just might need some special attention, he might," George answered sagely.

"Do you think he has a name?" Fred pondered aloud to his twin.

George shrugged slightly as they both turned to stare at Harry. "If he does he hasn't said it as yet."

"I'm sorry," Harry stammered completely off kilter by their unexpected behavior. "Harry. Harry Potter," he supplied as he offered his hand to one of them, though he wasn't certain if it was Fred of George.

"Blimey, he has a right good sense of humor, he does!" George proclaimed with a hearty chuckle.

"We may have to take him under our wing," Fred responded with. "We can always use a good sense of humor."

Harry looked from one twin to the other with a confused look as he slowly lowered his offered hand. "I'm sorry but I don't understand what was funny," he finally confessed.

"Go on with you now," Fred chuckled as he patted Harry's shoulder and then gave it a slight shake playfully. "You nearly had us going there for a bit."

"You pulled one over on us, you did," chimed in George still chuckling at the fact that they had been pranked. "It wasn't a very good one mind you, but more than worthy of a Firstie, it was mate."

Fred suddenly looked thoughtful. "Here now, we can't let it get out that we were done in by a Firstie."

"It would be bad for business, it would," George agreed with a serious nod of his head.

"I think that's the first time this year someone's had at us and it's worked though," Fred confessed with a note of admiration in his voice.

"Not since our brother Bill placed that family of garden gnomes in our bed last fall, he did," George supplied with a huge grin at the look of disbelief on Harry's face.

"Oy were they ever flummoxed to see us climbing into the covers," Fred supplied chuckling.

"It didn't help none that all I had on were me knickers at the time. Nasty buggers can bite, they can," George said, his smile dipping slightly upon recalling the incident. He had sported bite marks up and down his legs, and various other places, for several weeks.

"Seriously mate, you need to think a bit simpler though, you do," George said as he stepped up and slipped an arm around Harry's shoulder as one would when offering a bit of sage advice. "It's not likely that someone is going to believe that you're The-Boy-Who-Lived and all. People will find that a bit hard to swallow, they will."

Fred stepped up to Harry's other side so that the smaller boy was trapped between them. "I mean you don't even have the-," Fred's words died in his throat. He had reached out while speaking and lifted Harry's bangs out of the way and there, as bold as brass, was the infamous lightning bolt scare for both the twins to see.

"Harry Potter," the twins breathed at the same time in utter disbelief. In sputtering embarrassment they apologized and even helped him store his trunk and Hedwig's cage into the baggage car. Harry had let the snow owl out prior to leaving the house. He had read in the school handbook that this should be done and that the owls would find their way to Hogwarts. Harry had been certain at the time that it was also to minimize the amount of cleanup required on the train from owl droppings. Something he had become intimately familiar with over the last month.

"Wait right here, Mate" Fred said as the last of their things were stowed away. "The rest of the family has to meet you."

"Ron and Gin will think we're having a go at them, they will," George piped up with; the grin on his face clearly indicating her couldn't wait to prove them wrong.

Harry stood there flustered with embarrassment as memories of his brief venture to Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron came to mind. His entire life people hadn't wanted to speak to him unless it was to yell at him or tell him to fetch something or cook breakfast. All of a sudden since his eleventh birthday it seemed that in a blink of an eye people wanted to shake his hand as if he was some famous person or high ranking government official. Harry recalled thinking how unnatural all the attention had felt to him. People had gathered around him, touching him and saying how honored they were to be fortunate enough to have met The-Boy-Who-Lived. He realized shortly thereafter that it wasn't him they wanted to see but rather this ' _The-Boy-Who-Lived_ ' persona. Even now just thinking about it made his stomach feel queasy.

_I'm not sure I can go through that again_ , he thought as he stood there watching the twins hurry off while chatting back and forth excitedly about meeting him. As soon as they were lost in the crowd Harry walked to the back of the train and it was there that he saw the metal ladder that led to the roof of the baggage car. It only took a moment for him to decide on what to do. Once he was up the ladder he carefully made his way to the second to last car and then simply stretched out upon the top of the car and waited for the train to move. In this manner he figured he could make it all the way to Hogwarts, without having to deal with the hassle of not being what or who everyone thought he was.

Harry grimaced, thinking about the twins and hoping that they wouldn't be too mad with him. _Even if they are it's not like I'm not used to people hating my very existence already anyways. If my own relatives can't stand the sight of me how can I expect others to feel any different?_ "I never wanted to be The-Boy-Who-Lived," he said aloud, frustrated by the entire ordeal which had been thrust upon him without warning.

' _croak'_

Harry glanced to the side briefly upon hearing a noise and then looked back along the tracks behind the train having seen nothing there that would account for the noise he had heard.

' _croak'_

Harry slowly turned his head to the side, realizing that the noise was closer than he had first expected. Directly next to him where he sat upon the back platform was a large metal wheel which he thought might be used to manually apply breaking to the car's wheels. The metal wheel was mounted to a shaft which then went into a gearbox on the back wall of the car. Harry's eyes widened slightly in surprise upon noticing a pair of small eyes which were casually regarding him from the top of the breaking gearbox.

Harry watched the toads throat expand, stretching the thin membrane beneath its mouth till suddenly there was a ' _croak_ ' and the membrane retracted, returning to its normal state once again.

"Feeling a bit overwhelmed as well are we?" Harry asked the toad with grin. "Needing a bit of fresh air?" The toad jumped from the gearbox and landed in Harry's lap before seeming to make itself comfortable. Harry watched it for a moment to assure himself that it wasn't going to try and jump off the back of the moving train. "It's alright," he told his new companion, "I'm sure you didn't ask to be a toad either," he added.

"You wouldn't want to trade places would you?" he asked after watching the toad for several moments.

' _croak_ '

"I rather doubted you would," he said with a resigned sigh as he leaned his head back against the wall and watched through hooded eyes as everything he had ever known grew further and further away from him.

**-oOo-**

Malfoy looked up upon hearing the compartment door open only to frown upon seeing the girl who had earlier been discussing Harry Potter with another Prefect outside the very same door she now stood in.

"First year?" the Ravenclaw Prefect asked with a slightly raised brow. Malfoy nodded once sharply in way of response. "Right then," the girl said, assuming a business like stance and tone of voice. "I am Penelope Clearwater, the Prefect for the Ravenclaw house at Hogwarts. We'll be arriving in Hogsmeade shortly," she informed him. "Once the train has stopped and the whistle has blown twice you are to disembark, being certain to take with you any personal items you wish to keep. Once clear of the train you will need to report to Rubeus Hagrid who will escort all the first year students to Hogwarts. You shouldn't have any trouble locating him. He's rather hard to miss. Questions?" Seeing that Draco had none she turned and made her way to the next compartment to repeat the process all over again.

Draco watched her walk away with a contemptuous sneer upon his face. _Just you wait! It won't be long before the likes of you won't dare tell me what to do_ , he seethed within his own mind. The youngest of the Malfoy linage had his musing interrupted by the return of Crabbe and Goyle. "Did you find him?" he snarled at them, his mood already foul by this point.

Both boys were red in the face and breathing heavy but managed to nod that they hadn't.

"What's on with you two?" Draco asked upon finally taking note of their condition. "Did you have a bit of a row with someone?"

"No," Crabbe responded first, pausing to draw in a deep breath. "The Gryffindor Prefect Weasley told us to hurry back to our seats as we would be arriving soon," the heavy set boy stated pausing to draw breath once again.

"He threatened to take points from our house if we didn't hurry," Goyle added so as not to be left out.

Draco grunted, disgusted by the news. "Another Weasley! Is there no end to them?" he asked rhetorically. "Filthy blood traitors!" he spat out, using a term that he had heard his father use on several occasions when speaking of the clan of redheads. Draco motioned for the two of them to take the seat across from him. "No matter. He'll turn up once we're to the castle," he told them as his thoughts turned once again to the elusive Harry Potter.

"What of that Greengrass girl," Goyle asked once his large frame was settled back into the cushioned bench and he had caught his breath again.

"There'll be plenty of time to get to know her," Draco replied with an expectant grin. "Hogwarts is only so big and has only so many rooms. She can't evade me forever," he remarked confidently.

**-oOo-**

Harry jolted awake upon feeling the train lurch under him. It took him a moment to realize that he must have nodded off. Looking down into his lap he saw that the toad must have fallen asleep as well as it was still sitting there. Even as Harry realized this he felt the train lurch once more as it slowed down even further.

Gingerly picking up the toad in one hand he slipped it into the pocket of his robe before stepping to the far edge of the platform and stealing a glance along the side of the train. A short distance ahead he could make out lights which soon grew closer to reveal what he took to be the station that was their destination.

As soon as the train came to a jerking stop the whistle let out two loud long notes and students began to pour out of the train cars and onto the platform. Harry quickly disembarked, feeling fairly certain he would get into some form of trouble for having been riding on the back of the baggage car. Once off the train though he didn't know what to do or where to go so he just stood there and watched the sea of students in their black robes.

After a few minutes the crowd parted slightly to allow a rather tall and friendly looking man through. Harry took note that the man was wearing a conductor's uniform with a Hogwarts Express logo over his left breast. Harry smiled when the man nodded to him.

"No need to worry 'bout your things," the conductor told him. "They'll all be brought up to the castle easy peasy." The man paused and got a better look at Harry before he continued. "You're a first year aren't ya?" Harry nodded rapidly. "You should be over with the other first years by Hagrid. You know who Hagrid is don't ya?" Once more Harry simply nodded. "Right then, off with you now. I've got work to do here. Can't be havin no Firstie getting under foot and all." Having said his piece the man turned and with a flick of his wand opened the baggage car doors.

Harry, left with no other choice, turned and started to make his way along the platform trying not to get into anyone's way. It wasn't long till he heard Hagrid's large and commanding voice bellowing out above the other noise. "First year students over `ere now if you would. Don't be goin' with the other years," the half-giant instructed as he held up a large lantern so all the students could see him clearly.

Hagrid stood there nearly knees, waist and shoulders above all the gathered first year students and waited for the others to clear off. Those students who were second year and up moved off down the road. There were carriages waiting to take them around the lake to the school, which was situated at the farthest point away from Hogsmeade.

"Right then," Hagrid said, clearing his throat once. "Follow me then and be sure to watch where yer goin'! It wouldn't do atall' if one of you were to fall in the lake." Turning, the large man with the bushy beard led the students out upon a pier that jutted out into the dark waters of the lake.

"Now be careful when you step into the boats," Hagrid instructed them. "Two or three of ya to a boat ought to be plenty. No need to be pushing or shovin' now there's plenty of room for everyone," he assured them.

As Harry stepped out onto the pier, the last in line, he saw that the boats were rather small and painted white. Just ahead of him two small girls with jet black hair and dark complexions climbed down into the last boat. Harry waited till they were seated in the front seat before he nervously eased himself down into the boat as well. His one experience with boats had been the night he met Hagrid. Harry's uncle Vernon had rowed him as well as his aunt and cousin to a small bit of rock out in the ocean. It had been dark and his memories of the occasion were not that inviting. It was with that horrific experience in the forefront of his thoughts that he eased himself cautiously into their transportation, uncertain of just what to expect of the small craft. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that the boat didn't move or shift at all under his weight. Growing a little more confident he stepped to the rear seat and sat down. Before him the two girls gave a brief glance back at him before facing forward once more and chatting animatedly with each other.

Hagrid slowly walked down the length of the pier towards where Harry was however he stopped before going that far upon seeing that everyone had made it safely into the boats already. "Once we reach the other side make sure yer just as careful steppin' from the boat as you were gettin' in them," he instructed them. Satisfied that he had done all he needed to, the half-giant climbed into the middle boat which had been left empty for him Without any word or visible gesture all the boats started to move and drifted out into the lake.

First year students gasped and squealed in delight as the boats apparently propelled themselves by magic. Harry found the entire thing a little disconcerting as the boats made no noise even as they slid through the small waves upon the lakes surface. Left with little to do, he listened to the girls' conversation for a few moments and learned that they were sisters whose names were Parvati and Padma.

The trip across the lake was far faster than Harry thought it would be. As they neared what he took to be the center of the lake everyone started to exclaim loudly and point. Ahead of them, perched high upon a hilltop overlooking the lake, sat a huge castle. There were too many towers and turrets thrusting up into the night sky to clearly count them all. The windows in the tall buildings were all aglow with light which seemed both warm and welcoming to the young students.

As they neared the hill upon which the castle stood they passed through an opening which was partially hidden by hanging ivy and traveled through a tunnel till they found themselves within an underground harbor beneath the school. One by one the small boats pulled up to a short dock and the students disembarked. As each boat was emptied it moved out of the way and further back into the cavern to make room for the next boat with its load of passengers waiting to disembark.

"Just follow the path and it will lead you to the stairs by the boathouse," Hagrid's deep voice rang out in the quiet night as he held up his lantern. "Proceed up the stairs and Professor McGonagall will meet you at the top," he instructed, repeating it every so often to ensure everyone heard him and knew what to do.

"Hello Hagrid," Harry said as he accepted the half-giant's large hand and was nearly lifted out of the boat by the man's assistance.

"Hello Harry," Hagrid said with a giant smile as he set the small boy down upon the pier. "I was hoping I'd get ta see you before the sortin' hat ceremony"

"Sorting Hat?" Harry couldn't help but ask turning and craning his neck in an effort to look up at the man beside him.

"I shouldn't ought ta 'ave said that," Hagrid mumbled to himself half under his breath which meant it was clearly loud enough for Harry to hear. "Never you mind that now, Harry. You best run along now and let Professor McGonagall explain it to you," he said encouragingly as he gave Harry a small push on his back that nearly knocked the scrawny boy over.

"Alright then," Harry said with a grin once he'd regained his balance. "See you later Hagrid!" Harry waved once before turning and hurrying along the pathway. Upon reaching the boathouse he began climbing the stairs as quickly as he could. He barely managed to catch up to the rest of the first years as they neared the top.

As the other students came to halt ahead of him, Harry felt his robes move. Harry just caught a glimpse of the toad as it leapt from his pocket and then jumped into the crowd of students. Before he could give chase he heard a stern voice and couldn't help but look up and pay attention. Standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in emerald green robes, was a witch. The ' _no-nonsense_ ' expression upon the dark haired witch's face made Harry feel as if this was a person he did not want cross with him.

"Good evening First Year students and welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall. In just a few moments we will enter the great hall and you will be sorted into your houses. The houses here at Hogwarts are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." The elderly professor's eyes swept through the crowd to ensure she had everyone's attentions.

"While you are here your House is like your family. You will take classes with your other House members. Sleep in the dormitories with your House members as well as spend time in your House's common room. Each House has a long and noble history which I am certain you will strive to uphold for whichever House you're sorted into. Your triumphs, academically as well as in Quidditch, will earn your House points," she told them as she clasped her hands before her waist and surveyed the youngsters before her. "Likewise your failures will also cause your House to lose points. At the end of the term the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup and the honor associated with it."

"Trevor!" a dark haired boy Harry didn't know exclaimed and suddenly leapt out of the crowd of students to capture a toad that had just landed on the top step before the professor. "Sorry, Ma'am," the boy quickly offered in way of apology before stepping back into the crowd. Harry smiled softly at the rear of the group, glad that the toad had found its owner.

"Yes, well, do try to keep a better hold of your pet," Professor McGonagall stated to Neville before continuing. "Please wait here a moment while I go and see if they are ready for us," she told them before turning away and then disappearing through the doorway which was a short distance away.

"Can't even keep control of your pet," Draco sneered leaning against the railing to the stairs with a look of utter disdain upon his face as he gazed at Neville. "I guess what my father says it true, they'll let anyone into Hogwarts these days!"

"You should shut yer trap and stop being a prat," a redheaded boy Harry hadn't seen exclaimed before the boy with the toad could say anything.

Draco stepped forward and looked the boy who spoke over once, his expression clearly indicating he wasn't impressed with what he saw. "No need to ask your name," he said with a smirk. "Red hair, freckles, second hand robes and hand me down clothes, you must be a Weasley!" Draco laughed, with Crabbe and Goyle directly behind him joining in as well. Ron's face turned red all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Listen up all of you," Draco said in a voice loud enough to clearly carry all the way to the back of the gathered student. "You'll soon learn that there are some Wizarding families that are better than others. You don't want to go associating with the wrong kind." Draco paused as Goyle nudged him and indicated that Professor McGonagall was returning. With a final menacing glare at Ron the light haired boy stepped back to the rail as if nothing had happened.

Harry had watched the entire exchange but remained quiet throughout. He knew the light haired boy's type all too well. _Minus the weight and some height he reminds me of Dudley_ , Harry thought to himself as he turned to face the approaching professor. _There must be bullies in every school_ , he reasoned.

"They are ready for you now," McGonagall informed them. "Once we're inside when you hear your name called please come forward and have a seat upon the chair. I will place the Sorting hat upon your head and it will decide which House you're to be in. Once that is known you may step down and have a seat at your House's table. Are there any questions?" She paused for a long moment before continuing. "Very well then, please follow me," the Professor instructed them before turning and leading them to the door.

They were led into the castle and brought into a room that Harry took to be an antechamber. Professor McGonagall slipped out for one final check to ensure all was in readiness. There was a set of large doors beyond which Harry could hear the murmuring of hundreds of voices. _All the other students must be gathered within already_ , he surmised.

Suddenly something chillingly cold passed through him. If he hadn't been so frightened he would have screamed. Several of the others students did scream as a group of ghosts moved through the room. He had read about the ghosts at Hogwarts so he should have expected them, he told himself. _It's one thing to read about them but a bit more disconcerting to have one float through you!_

The doors slowly swung open and Professor McGonagall motioned for all of them to follow her. The Professor led them along one side of the hall and towards the front of the room. Harry would later wonder how any of them managed to follow Professor McGonagall at all without falling down or tripping over themselves. Every first year student's face was gazing upwards in awestruck wonder at the magical sight that suddenly revealed itself to them as they stepped from the anteroom into the room where the new-term feast was waiting to start.

The great hall of Hogwarts was illuminated by thousands upon thousands of candles which floated in the air above the four rows of tables. At one end of the hall, raised slightly above the others, was the table at which all of the teachers sat. Even though Harry had read, in _Hogwarts: A History,_ about the ceiling being bewitched to appear as the sky above Hogwarts, he was still woefully ill prepared for such a spectacular sight. Try as he might he could not discern the actual ceiling past the velvety blackness that shrouded it. All that was visible in the darkness of the night sky were the scattering sparkle of bright pinpoints of light that were the evening stars.

Harry attention was finally returned to what was happening as Professor McGonagall placed a four legged stool before them and then placed a rather old and worn looking hat upon it. As everyone in the hall was looking at the hat Harry did as well when suddenly the old hat began to sing.

Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find,  
A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head,  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you,  
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve,  
and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,  
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin,  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means,  
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none),  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

When the hat's song ended Harry was amazed at the sudden eruption of cheering and clapping from all the students and faculty as well.

"When your name is called have a seat and place the Sorting Hat upon your head," Professor McGonagall instructed them.

Harry remained in the back of the group but was able to follow pretty much what was happening in front of everyone. The first two students, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, both went to Hufflepuff and were warmly welcomed. The following two, Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst were sorted off to Ravenclaw. The next three went in very rapid succession, all of them going to the same house. Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle all found themselves sorted to Slytherin.

Harry started to fidget as other students were sorted off to various houses. As he watched a bushy-haired witch with the name of Hermione Granger was called forth and quickly sorted to Gryffindor. There was a loud eruption of applause and a near standing ovation for her from her new House mates as she was the first of the new students to be added to Gryffindor. Harry caught a glimpse of the girl taking her seat at the Gryffindor table just as she was wiping away tears of joy from her eyes.

"Ronald Weasley," Professor McGonagall called, turning to watch as the boy stepped forth.

Harry watched as the red headed boy who had spoken up upon the stairs nervously took the seat and slowly settled the hat upon his head. "Hmmm another Weasley," the hat intoned for all to hear. Harry was surprised as it was the first time that the hat had spoken anything other than the name of the house the student was sorted to. "I know just what to do with you," the Hat continued with before pausing for a split second. "GRYFFINDOR!" it loudly exclaimed finally.

The boy Harry now knew to be Ronald Weasley quickly got up and made his way to the Gryffindor table only to be met by handshakes, slaps on the back and congratulations. A bit embarrassed and overwhelmed Ron took a seat at the table next to Hermione. It was as he watched the good natured welcoming at the table that Harry spied the redheaded twins from that morning. Another redhead, wearing a Prefect badge got up and came over to welcome Ron. It was then, while the four of them were grouped together, that Harry realized that they were all brothers.

"Draco Malfoy," the Professor read off once the Gryffindor table had settled down somewhat.

Draco smirked, already knowing which house he would be sorted into. The Malfoy's had a long standing history of being sorted into the same house. Professor McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat from the stool as the light haired boy sauntered up and took a seat. As the hat was lowered to his head it loudly called out, "SLYTHERIN!" as it first brushed against Draco's hair. Draco jumped up with a grin and quickly made his way over to be seated with his friends Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table.

"Harry Potter," Professor McGonagall said and suddenly the hall grew incredibly quiet. The Professor turned to look at the few remaining students. "Harry Potter, please step forth and take the seat," she instructed.

Harry, with a growing sense of dread stepped around an auburn-haired girl waiting to be sorted who was standing in front of him and slowly made his way towards the chair. He could already hear the whispers starting up throughout the Great Hall. ' _Did she say Potter?_ ' Inwardly he groaned, hating the unwanted attention his name always seemed to bring. ' _The Harry Potter_?' Upon reaching it he lifted the hat and climbed up onto the stool. ' _The-Boy-Who-Lived is really at Hogwarts?_ ' As he raised the hat to place it on his head his emerald eyes fell upon the Gryffindor tables with its wealth of redheads.

_Please, not Gryffindor_ , he thought to himself as he settled the hat upon his head. _Anyplace but Gryffindor! I don't want to be some celebrity that everyone wants to meet and be seen with! If I have to be sorted place me somewhere quiet where I can be by myself_ , he silently begged within his head.

_Not Gryffindor, you say?_ asked an unfamiliar voice within Harry's head suddenly, nearly startling him into falling off the stool. Only the fact that his hands were already grasping the sides of the stool in a near death grip manner kept him in place and from embarrassing himself before the entire school. _Hmmm difficult. Very difficult_ , continued the small voice in Harry's head. _A sharp mind, I see and a desire to be more than you are…to prove yourself_ , the voice continued as if it was reading a book and giving a running commentary to Harry of what it saw. _Where to put you though is the question. Where indeed?_

_Anywhere but Gryffindor. Someplace where no one will want to make friends and I can be left alone_ , Harry begged silently.

It was during Harry's second year of primary school that he had learned that friends were a bad thing to have. He had made friends with a fellow classmate, his first friend ever. The boy had asked Harry to go to the park after school one day. Even though Harry knew he was to go directly home of he would suffer his uncle's wrath, Harry was desperate for friendship and so he went. When he arrived at the park it was to find his new _friend_ there as well as Dudley with two other boys. Dudley had set the entire thing up just so that he could enjoy Harry's reaction to finding out that his first and only friend had betrayed him. The beating he received at their hands, as well as his uncle's that evening when he finally made it home, ingrained in him what friendship truly was - something to be avoided at all costs. Since that time he had determined that he was better without it.

_Hmmm…I see trust issues and yet a deep desire for acceptance as well_ , the sorting hat told him, peering into the deepest reaches of the boys mind and heart. The murmurings in the great hall began to grow louder as the moments slipped past without the sorting hat having as yet to sort The-Boy-Who-Lived. _There is potential to do great things here. You could be great…perhaps even one of the greatest! It's all right here within your mind. Gryffindor, with its long line of hero's and courageous witches and wizards, could certainly see you to greatness! Not Gryffindor, are you sure?_ the hat enquired one last time. The shake of Harry's head was barely discernible, if at all. "Well then it can only be SLYTHERIN!"


	3. Start Of Term

Daphne Greengrass, along with everyone else within the great hall of Hogwarts, stared in shocked silence as The-Boy-Who-Lived reached up with an almost apologetic smile and removed the Sorting Hat from his head as he slipped off of the stool. _So it was him atop the rail car_ , she thought to herself as Harry handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall. The silence in the hall made the dark haired boy's footsteps almost seem to echo as he walked the distance from the stool to his House's table. Daphne, as well all the students and a good portion of the staff were more than a little surprised to see Harry sit at the very end of the table, furthest away from everyone else, though closest to the head table where the professors were seated.

"Tracey Davis," Professor McGonagall called out after consulting the list in her hand briefly. The stunned silence which still hung within the hall made the stern professor's voice seem overly loud.

Daphne smiled upon hearing her best friend's name called and turned to watch the auburn haired witch step forward and take her seat upon the stool to have the Sorting Hat placed upon her head. When the hat called out Slytherin, Daphne clapped excitedly for her friend though her eyes were drawn once more towards the dark haired boy seated alone at the end of the Slytherin table.

Daphne watched as her friend walked past Harry, glancing at him briefly in curiosity; as she continued on to take a seat nearest her new House mates seated further down the table. It seemed to be an unwritten rule among the students to take the first available seat that was furthest from the head table. Much in the same manner that students would often leave the front seats in a classroom vacant if they could. The slender blonde witch didn't pay much attention as the next two students; a Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan were both sorted into Gryffindor with an accompanying round of cheering from their new House mates.

"Daphne Greengrass," Professor McGonagall called as she peered over the rim of her square glasses at the remaining first year students. "Please step forward and have a seat Ms. Greengrass," the venerable witch instructed as she saw Daphne move towards the stool.

Daphne slowly slid backwards onto the seat, nervous despite having witnessed a score of others having been sorted already that evening. _I mustn't appear weak in front of everyone_ , she told herself silently. _Papa would never be seen as such before others_ , she reminded herself. The blonde girl's eyes darted over to the Slytherin table and she caught a wave of encouragement from Tracey, to which she smiled hesitantly. For a brief moment her eyes shifted towards Harry Potter who sat alone at the end of the table, however The-Boy-Who-Lived was intently staring at the empty golden plate before him so she could not catch his gaze or see what expression might reside upon his face.

_Ah, a Greengrass_ , a small voice said within Daphne's head as she settled the hat atop her blonde hair. _I recall your father well. A stern child even then_ , the hat told her with a trace of mild amusement. _Now what shall I do with you?_ Daphne got the strangest of feelings, as if someone was lightly brushing their fingers through the hair on the top of her head. _A sharp mind to be sure. You would do well in Ravenclaw, of that I have no doubt._

"Slytherin please," Daphne whispered aloud so that only the hat could hear even as once more her blue eyes found Tracey seated at that House's table.

_Loyalty to ones friends_ , the hat murmured within her mind even as she felt the light caress upon her awareness once more. _An admirable trait cherished highly by those who call Hufflepuff their home. No, not Hufflepuff either?_ The hat intoned, reading her thoughts and desire to be in Slytherin. _There is courage and bravery here as well I see. Strength…yes most certainly, strength to stand up for your beliefs I see. You would do well within Gryffindor. It's all right here for me to see._

_I…I do not have those abilities_ , Daphne argued silently, recalling her fear from earlier that day and her inability to merely step across from one train car to another. _I do not believe I can recall a time when I was more frightened_ , she told the hat, hating to admit her own weakness.

_None the less you did step across the platform to the other car did you not?_ the hat asked her rhetorically having already seen it in her mind. _Not only that, you then proceeded to climb a latter and walk on top of the car. A most remarkable deed for one without courage I should think. Later still you climbed down from your lofty perch and returned to your car knowing what could be possibly waiting for you there. Few your age could boast such bravery._

Daphne swallowed quickly recalling earlier that day even as her eyes fell upon Harry. It had been frightening to climb down from atop the car but with him beneath her and his arms upon the ladder to either side of her that fear had seemed to lessen. He had taken her hand and walked her across the short platform to the other car before she had even known it. Daphne had hoped that by the time she returned to the compartment the Malfoy boy would have left but there was no certainty of it. _True, he very well could have still been there waiting for me_ , she admitted. _As for the other…I had help_ , was all she thought to say having already admitted to being scared.

_Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the ability to take action in the face of that fear, a trait each and every Gryffindor shares. I see in you the potential for all these things and much more. In Gryffindor you would do well_ , the hat told her once again.

_Please_ , Daphne near begged, _if I have any say in the matter, please sort me to be with my friend in Slytherin_. The blonde girl's eyes shifted from Harry back to Tracey with a hopeful look.

_Very well then_ , the hat replied rather smugly. Daphne got the distinct impression that the hat had never intended to sort her into any of the previous houses it had mentioned, however she couldn't be certain of that fact. "SLYTHERIN!" the hat suddenly called out causing that House's table to cheer exuberantly.

Daphne breathed a sigh of relief as she handed the hat back to the Professor and slid off the stool. As the newest member of Slytherin turned to make her way towards her House table she saw the Malfoy boy stand, followed by the two other boys that were with him earlier and make their way over to where the Potter boy was seated. Not wishing to be anywhere near the light haired boy, Daphne quickly hurried past them and took the seat next to Tracey. After receiving a hug from her friend and well wishes from her House mates she glanced down at the end of the table and couldn't help but wonder what was going on with the four boys seated there.

**-oOo-**

Hermione Granger was confused. It wasn't a state she enjoyed being in but she was only slightly mollified in her distress by knowing that all of her House mates, if not the entire hall, were just as equally confused. It was with a creased brow that she watched The-Boy-Who-Lived make his way from the stool and slowly walk to the end of the Slytherin table and take a seat.

"Well that's a bit of a shock," Ron Weasley whispered beside her. All around them other students began to whisper at this turn of events as well. From what the bushy haired witch could overhear astonishment was pretty much the general consensuses of the entire room.

Hermione turned to look at the redhead," Why is that a surprise?" Being new to the Wizarding world there were still a great many things she did not understand. Being one of the brightest witches of her age she also realized the fact that there was a lot she did not know. Rather than being discouraged by this fact Hermione embraced it and viewed it as a personal challenge to learn more about the world she was now a part of.

"There isn't a witch or wizard that's gone bad that wasn't from Slytherin," Ron informed his new friend, recalling that she was muggle born and so wouldn't necessarily know. "Him being The-Boy-Who-Lived and all, I would have wagered he would be a Gryffindor."

"We did," Fred piped up from a short ways down the table indicating that wagers had in fact been placed.

"That we did," George confirmed sadly.

"…and lost, it would seem," Fred added as he turned and glanced towards Harry who was sitting alone.

"That we did," George reiterated as his eyes turned to regard the same boy his brother was looking at.

"We didn't get Potter," the twins chorused together.

"It just seems a bit dodgy that he'd be a snake," Ron commented as his eyes followed his twin brothers to regard the solitary boy at the end of the Slytherin House table.

"So just because he is in Slytherin you expect him to…what?" Hermione asked confused further by the exchange between the siblings.

"Mum says the whole house is rotten on account of Professor Snape being their head of House," Fred offered.

"Who's Professor Snape?" Hermione asked curiously.

Fred pointed towards the front table. "See that one there with the oily looking black hair. "That's Snape. He teaches Potions," Fred added.

"Everyone knows it's the Defense Against the Dark Arts though that he fancies, he does," George offered.

"So just because of that all Slytherin's are evil?" Hermione enquired in an attempt to better understand something that was just confusing her more and more.

"Mum's never liked them since her time here at Hogwarts," George explained to Hermione. "No she hasn't."

"That's only because some snake from Slytherin was with me Dad before her," Fred said with a wide grin. "Even though he himself was a Gryffindor."

"Dad was with a snake?" Ron exclaimed in a squeaky voice with a look of shock on his face at the news.

"Oi, haven't you noticed that Bill looks a bit reptilian," George asked, trying to keep a straight face. "Frightful he is," the twin nodded knowingly as his other brother join in supportively, nodding his own head in agreement.

Ron sat flabbergasted for a moment as he tried to process what the twins had just imparted to him concerning their oldest brother. "Wait," the youngest redhead suddenly said as he realized something, "If Bill was reptilian that would mean that Mum…" the young boys face turned red all the way up to the tips of his ears upon realizing what that would mean.

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. "I think they are just having a go at you Ron," she said with a sympathetic look at the boy next to her. Being an only child the young witch felt a twinge of jealousy at watching the siblings' good natured interaction. There were times she had wished for a younger sister or brother, not that she would ever tell her parents of such a desire. She had learned from her father that due to medical complications during her own birth her mother could not have any additional children. Hermione had decided at a very early age to be the best daughter she could for both her parents.

Ron just nodded, having grown used to his brothers' antics over the course of his life. As the redhead watched, two more students, one with auburn hair and the other with blonde, both girls, were sorted into the Slytherin House. "Great, just what we need, more snakes!" As his eyes followed the newest member of the den of snakes he noticed the prat from earlier that was going on about how some families are better than others get up from his seat and make his way over to The-Boy-Who-Lived before seating himself once again. "Malfoy," Ron breathed aloud upon seeing the boy and his two goons that followed him over to Potter.

"Are they all really that bad, Ron?" Hermione asked noting where her friend was looking. Ron turned and looked at her as if she was daft before turning back to the front of the room. "You don't have to be so rude about it Ronald!" Hermione scolded him in a huff.

"Look, I didn't mean to be rude," Ron tried to explain as he turned to regard her once again. "We're Gryffindor's and so snakes are like our natural born enemies," he told her as if it made the most perfect of sense.

"But why?" Hermione persisted. Growing up with muggle parents who were both loving and open minded, she was a stranger to the type of prejudiced attitudes that Ron was currently exhibiting. Disliking an entire group of people strictly because of where they were from or what House they were in simply didn't fit within her world of logic and books.

Ron shrugged at her question. "Why does the fox raid the hen house?" he asked only to see her puzzled expression. "It's just the way it is," he answered his own question.

The young witch puzzled the matter for a long moment as Ron turned back to observe the rest of the sorting that was taking place. Try as she might, she just could not accept that answer. Her young mind was exceptionally well at deducing facts and working out complicated problems. Ron's answer sounded more like the easy way out rather than the actual truth of the matter to her. "Maybe he wanted to be sorted there?" she said aloud to herself.

"You'd have to be barmy to want to be in Slytherin," Ron exclaimed sharply upon overhearing her.

Hermione's retort was stopped as the table around them erupted in loud cheers and applause. Looking up the bushy haired witch saw an extremely embarrassed Neville making his way towards the Gryffindor table. Hermione waited till things had settled down once more before leaning forward so she could see Neville who was seated next to Ron. "Still have Trevor?" she asked with a large smile upon her face to show she was only teasing.

Neville reached into his pocket as he grinned at her question. "He's right he..," the boys eyes grew large as his hand found only an empty pocket. There was a sudden ' _croak_ ' from his pocket on the opposite side causing Neville to sigh in relief. "He's right here," Neville replied with a light pat of his other pocket.

**-oOo-**

"I guess it's true what they say," Draco said as he dropped into the seat next to Harry as Crabbe and Goyle slid into the vacant places directly across the table from them, "only the best witches and wizards are sorted into Slytherin." The light haired boy turned with a grin towards the boy with dark hair seated next to him. "Wouldn't you agree, Potter?" he asked even as his eyes followed the blonde witch that walked past on her way to sit with another girl who had been sorted just prior.

Harry groaned inwardly as the other boys seated themselves around him. When he had slid off the stool and made his way over to the Slytherin table he could already hear the whispering beginning concerning him. He wasn't used to being the center of attention and even less used was he to sitting at a table with others. More often than not the Dursleys had made him eat in the cupboard under the stairs, once he was done cooking and they had been served of course. Dudley had told his parents that it made him nauseous to eat and have to look at ' _The Freak_ ' at the same time. As there was no cupboards handy to sit in he had decided to sit as the very end of the table, away from everyone else so as not to disturb them. More than a little uncomfortable with the attention, Harry found that he missed the normal imperceptibility the Dursleys treated him with.

Harry grunted noncommittally to the boy's question. With his cousin, there were no correct answers as everything he said was wrong and just offered an excuse for Dudley to continue whatever abuse he was presently involved in. Talking only served to prolong the abuse and could mean the difference between just bruises and a black eye or worse. Silence or noncommittal noises always seemed to work best with the larger boy he had discovered.

Draco grunted at Harry's lack of response. "I see, a man of few words. I rather like that," the young Malfoy offered with a single tilting back of his head in acknowledgement before righting it once again. "There are too many people here that feel the need to prattle on about everything and anything," Draco said as he glanced about him. Harry couldn't help but turn his head and stare at the boy wondering if Draco knew he had just described himself as far as Harry was concerned. "Draco Malfoy," Draco said extending his hand towards Harry.

"Pleasure," Harry said flatly as he shook the hand once smartly before quickly releasing it. Harry self-consciously wiped his hand on his robe once it was beneath the table. "Why?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence, only to see Draco look at him in question. "Why are you sitting next to me?" Harry couldn't understand why anyone would want to sit by someone like himself. The Dursleys had done everything they could not to have to be around him and they were his family he reasoned.

Draco wasn't sure exactly what the dark haired boy meant by his question. "Come again?" he asked. _Here I've gone out of my way to be cordial_ , Draco reasoned to himself as that was how he saw it. _I don't see anyone else hurrying to be his friend. Even though this is beneath me I feel certain it is what Father would want. If we can bring The-Boy-Who-Lived to our side it will be a tremendous coupe!_ The fact that it would be himself, working alone, that orchestrated such a strategic move had the younger boy already dreaming about the praise his father would lavish upon him.

"You shouldn't be here," Harry replied while hating to have to explain himself. "You should be back where you came from with your friends." A life time of being told he was useless and wasn't worthy of having anything, including friends, was something he fervently wish to avoid having to explain. _The day has been so wonderful I would just hate to have to end it on such a note_ , he reasoned. The young wizard in training was also pretty certain that Draco was not the type of friend he wanted.

_The little prat thinks he's too good for me_ , Draco fumed, feeling insulted by the perceived flippant tone the question was asked in. _I can understand not wanting to be with Crabbe or Goyle, but I'm a Malfoy! How dare he place me in the same group as them!_ "Think you're funny do you, Potter? You had better think about your choices. Best watch yourself, Potter!" Draco sneered as he got to his feet and nodded curtly for Crabbe and Goyle to do so as well. "You'll soon find that Hogwarts can be a bit hazardous at times if you're not careful. Come see me when you change your mind." With a final malicious laugh the light haired boy walked further down the table to reclaim his seat.

_Well, at least it didn't come to blows_ , Harry thought to himself as he watched the three boys walk away. He was fairly certain that he could stand up to Draco if it came to that. It was the other two that he was concerned about. Both Crabbe and Goyle could give Dudley a run for his money where weight was concerned. When it came right down to it, it didn't always matter how strong or talented a person was. A fist with enough weight behind it still hurt a great deal. This he knew from firsthand experience thanks to Dudley and his friends.

Harry sat staring at the golden plate and utensils before him till the sorting was complete and an aged man with a long white beard stood and offered a few words. Harry thought the man might be a bit daft but before he could decide upon it the table before him was suddenly covered in all manner of foods.

It was more food than Harry had ever seen in one place before. _It must have taken loads of time to make all of this_ , he thought to himself in disbelief. Try as he might he couldn't deduce the amount of time required to cook it all. Cooking was one of the few things he enjoyed doing, though he would have preferred not to have been doing it for the Dursleys for most of his life.

There was something he found both challenging as well as satisfyingly rewarding in combining ingredients as well as different seasoning to create something that was uniquely original and yet still tasted good. Perhaps it was due to this that he had taken a liking to his _Magical Draft and Potions_ book and was looking forward to his first potions class. The prospect of combining all manner of things to create something magical held a very strong allure to him which his young heart just couldn't resist. Tuesday's afternoon potions class couldn't get there soon enough for his liking.

Although there was an overabundance of food, Harry still only served himself the smallest of portions. With a small smile the undernourished boy began to eat the food which filled less than half his plate. The fact that he actually had a small piece of meat on his plate made it feel like a holiday to him. With the Dursleys it was a very rare occurrence when they allowed him to have meat, usually only on holidays or if his uncle Vernon had received a sizable bonus and was feeling exceptionally charitable. _I think I could get used to this_ , he thought with a slight smile which he quickly hid fearful someone might see it and take the food away from him should he be enjoying it too much.

Harry finished long before any of the other students and remained sitting at the table staring at his plate with his hands in his lap waiting for the others to finish as well. At home he had always had to wait for the Dursleys to finish and leave the table before he could come out and collect the dishes for washing. He had glanced about once to see if he could spot a sink or someplace to wash his plate and utensils but had failed to see anything that could possibly be used as such. Not certain what to do, he decided to wait and see where everyone else took their plates to be cleaned.

_Perhaps I can find the sinks before the plates are piled too high_ , he thought. Harry had plenty of time on the train ride to Hogwarts to ponder just how his schooling was being paid for. While he knew of the vault at Gringotts, there had never been mention of withdrawing enough galleons to pay for anything other than school supplies. He couldn't see his uncle Vernon paying for anything on his behalf either. _Maybe they'll expect me to work in the kitchen to help pay for classes? I should tell them I can assist with the grounds work as well_ ," he realized, recalling all the time he had spent tending his aunt's flower beds.

The great hall nearly vibrated with the volume of conversation that went on around him. There was much laughter and good natured teasing between the new students as well as those in higher years. In time the food was replaced with an array of desserts that made Harry's mouth water just looking at them. As badly as he wanted one, a life time of conditioning being denied any desserts was not to be forgotten in a single night. Harry dropped his hand to his pocket and felt the contour of the biscuit he had hid away there for later. It would make for a far better dessert than he had ever had while at his aunt and uncle's.

The elderly man that had spoken previously eventual stood and the hall grew silent. Harry nervously scanned the teachers' table when he felt a sudden pain in the scar upon his forehead. Stifling a gasp of pain he hastily raised one hand to massage the scar upon his brow. Once again his eyes returned to the teachers table only to land upon a pair of instructors that were chatting in earnest. One had dark hair and was dressed all in black while the other he recognized as Professor Quirrell whom he had met with Hagrid at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Ahem….just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered," the aged wizard said into the silence of the hall. Harry heard one of the students sitting near elbow another student and advise them to remain silent while Professor Dumbledore was speaking. It was in this manner that Harry learned who the wizard was. "I have a few start-of-term notices to give you," his kind eyes sweeping across all the eager faces below him. _They look younger and younger every year_ , the Headmaster thought to himself.

"First year students should note that the forest located on the grounds is strictly off limits." Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle as he pointed looked towards the Gryffindor table as he added, "A fact some of our older student would do wise to remember." The Weasley twins both seemed to hunch lower in their seats in a vain attempt to become invisible.

"Quidditch trials will be held during the second week of term, should you be so inclined to try out for your House's team. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked that I remind everyone that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes," the Headmaster stated with a small grin. "Lastly," the elder wizard offered as the smile slipped from his face to be replaced by the most serious of expressions, "for this year the third floor corridor on the right is off limits to anyone who does not want to die a most gruesome death." There was a wave of low murmuring within the hall upon hearing this announcement.

The Headmaster suddenly slipped his wand out, or it may have just appeared in his hand, Harry couldn't tell. "Now before we call it a night lets us all sing the school song," he proclaimed loudly. Harry, sitting where he was and staring at the teachers table couldn't help but noticed that several of them seemed to have affixed smiles on their faces upon hearing the Headmasters words.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald,  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot.

Everyone in the hall had finished singing but the Weasley twins who continued on for several lines in the darkest of funeral dirges which only seemed to delight the aged Headmaster to no end. Harry couldn't help but smile along with everyone else in the hall.

Once the song had finished there was a loud round of cheering which went on for what seemed like several minutes. Eventually the Headmaster raised his hands and signaled for quiet once more. "Now, if the House Prefects would be so kind as to escort the members of your Houses to their common rooms I believe we shall call it an evening. Classes will begin bright and early in the morning," Dumbledore told the entire student body.

"First years," a voice near at hand called, drawing Harry's attention from the Headmaster and to his own House's table. "I am Gemma Farley, one of the Prefects for Slytherin. Stay close to me as it wouldn't do to lose one or two of you before we make it to the commons," the older girl told them with a barely hidden sneer. Harry got the impression that the loss of one or two of them wouldn't have bothered the older girl in the least.

Harry stood up and then glanced back down at his dirty plate only to see that it, as well as all the others on the table were as spotless as when he had first taken his seat at the table. _Magic is brilliantly wonderful_ , he thought to himself recalling all the time he had spent at the Dursleys washing dishes over the years. _It would help loads if I could do that when I get home for summer break_ , Harry realized, before recalling his uncle's reaction to Hagrid and all things magical. Thinking of his uncle made him realize that he wouldn't be washing dishes to pay for his stay at Hogwarts. Suddenly magic didn't seem as nearly brilliant as had just a moment before as he wondered what would be expected of him in way of payment for his schooling.

Following the rest of the first years, who in turn followed Gemma, they made their way down into the dungeons of the castle. The Slytherin Prefect paused before a blank wall and spoke the password ' _Salazar_ '. A hidden doorway appeared which she then opened and stepped through, motioning for everyone to follow her.

Harry stepped through the door and found himself standing at the top of a wide stairway that emptied out into a grand room. The room itself was decorated in tapestries and old paintings with green chandeliers suspended from the vaulted ceiling shedding lighting over the entire room. There were large windows across the room depicting nothing but darkness as far as he could tell, though he attributed this to it being dark outside currently.

As he slowly walked down the widening steps he could see that the common room of Slytherin had several large plush black leather couches, two of which were positioned before the enormous fireplace which dominated one wall. A charm must have been placed on it as the flames burned brightly with several different shades of green rather than their typical merry yellow, orange and red. There was also a large round dark wooden table that could easily seat a dozen students around its circumference. There were other tables, chairs and couches situated about the room where smaller groups or individuals might relax or pursue their studies. There was even a small chess set placed upon a table off to one side where the game pieces were emerald and black.

Harry hastily looked about, noticing that the pictures and tapestries were all images of past Slytherin's depicted in heroic scenes. He liked the room save for one thing; it was frightfully cold despite the massive blazing fire. Harry unconsciously pulled his robes tightly about himself in an effort to ward off the chill he felt.

"Right then, Firsties," Prefect Fraley said gathering everyone attention to her. "Through that arch over there are the dormitories," she told them as she pointed to a large ornately carved stone archway. "Boys are to the left, girls to the right. If any of you boys should happen to wander into the wrong one there is a caterwauling charm placed upon the girl's doorway. Professor Snape, our Head of House, doesn't take kindly to those getting caught by it," the girl informed them. "You'll find facilities for bathing and what not in your room."

Harry heard several students that were older and who had stayed to listen to the Prefect, snicker at her words. Listening to their hushed comments he was surprised to hear them talking about how it was alright to sneak into the girl's dormitory so long as you were careful enough not to get caught. Thinking back to what Gemma had stated, their Head of House was apparently only bothered by those that got caught.

"Breakfast in the great hall starts at 7 o'clock," Gemma told the first years gathered about her. "Your first class begins promptly at 8 o'clock so don't be late," she warned in a tone that left no room for argument. "Being late to class can cost your House points if the Professor instructing the class is so inclined. If you start costing our House points you'll soon find yourself having a very unpleasant time." The older girl's eyes swept over the first year students in what was a clear and evident threat.

"Now your first class tomorrow will be," she paused to regard a scroll she had in one hand, "Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall and her House, Gryffindor. I would advise you all to be on time as the head of Gryffindor House would love to deduct points from Slytherin to aide her own House. If any of you do not know how to set your wand to wake you up, stick around and I'll show you. The rest, off to bed with you," she instructed them.

Harry hung back along with about two thirds of the first year students. He watched as the Prefect explained how to set an alarm using their wands. You only needed to speak the word ' _evigilabit_ ' and the time you wished to be awakened. The Slytherin Prefect explained that the time was set in twenty-four increments which meant that 1 o'clock in the afternoon needed to be stated as 13 o'clock.

Harry walked through the archway and turned left to find a stairway that went down. Following the spiral staircase he came to a door that read 'First Years' in dark green lettering upon a gold name plate. Opening the door he found himself in a dormitory which was large enough to hold all the new first year students that were boys.

There were large dark wooden four poster canopied beds with heavy dark green curtains pinned back at each corner. One need only close the curtains to gain a measure of privacy. On one side of the bed was a chest of drawers and a nightstand while on the other side of the bed was a desk with a wooden chair situated before it. Next to the desk was the next person's chest of drawers and so it continued about the room. At the foot of one of the beds Harry spied his trunk with a relieved sigh and quickly made his way over to it.

It had been a long and eventful day and he, along with his House mates, quickly changed into their sleeping attire before climbing into bed and pulling the covers up to his chin. An older boy, whom Harry took to be the male Prefect, stuck his head in the door and told them it was lights out time. The Prefect waved his wand and all the lights in the room dimmed and went out save one near the door.

As Harry lay for the first time in a real bed, he caught the faintest of sounds. As he strained to hear it better he suddenly realized it was the sound of water or more correctly what sounded to be the gentle lapping of waves. _We must be near the lake_ , he thought to himself. Setting his wand on the nightstand beside his bed he set his alarm for 6:30 in the morning before removing his glasses and setting them next to his wand. Laying there in the darkness he slowly slipped off to sleep to the soothing sound of the Black Lake.

**-oOo-**

Albus Dumbledore stood beside the large perch upon which Fawkes rested and smiled contentedly at the look of pure pleasure upon the Phoenix's expressive face. "I really should know better than to spoil you like this, my friend," the Headmaster spoke softly as he continued to scratch the feathers along the underside of the beak of the legendary bird. A purposeful knock upon the door to his office intruded upon the two friends. "Enter," the Headmaster called out, knowing who it was already due to the notification charm placed upon the gargoyle statue at the bottom of the stairs leading to his office.

"Good Evening, Headmaster," Minerva McGonagall offered in greeting after she stepped through the door and closed it behind her. "Good Eve to you as well Fawkes. You're looking exceptionally beautiful this evening," the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts offered to the crooning phoenix who stretched his head forward in an attempt to garnish further attention from the one scratching his feathers.

"A very good evening it has been, Minerva," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eyes and a soft smile towards Fawkes and his antics. "Please do not encourage him, Minerva. He already believes himself to be the most beautiful bird in all of Britannia."

"I would say that he is unless there is another phoenix about that we don't know about?" the witch replied eliciting a cooing of appreciation from Fawkes at her compliment. "Are you so certain it was a good evening, Albus?" McGonagall enquired as she moved closer to the two of them. The stern head of Gryffindor House glanced sharply at the Sorting Hat which was once more resting in its place upon the top of the cabinet behind the Headmaster's desk.

"Bee in your bonnet, McGonagall?" the Sorting Hat enquired reproachfully, taking notice of the stares the Transfiguration Professor had shot at it upon entering.

"I thought Potter was to go to Gryffindor?" Minerva stated looking towards the Headmaster questioningly. "I fail to see how he could be sorted anywhere else."

Albus reluctantly dropped his hand from beneath the phoenix's chin only to receive a look of extreme reproach from the bird for having ceased with the attention. "The only certainty," the Headmaster replied as he stepped past the perch and walked to his desk, "was that Harry would attend Hogwarts." Albus lifted a porcelain bowl from his desk, removing the lid from it carefully before presenting it to the Transfiguration Professor who had followed him over. "Lemon drop?"

The witch declined with a short shake of her head before watching as the Headmaster availed himself of one before replacing the bowl and lid upon his desk. "Yes. I know that it would have been dangerous for him to attend school anywhere else," she stated to show she understood the matter. They had talked about it at great length that night nearly ten years ago. "But Slytherin?" McGonagall asked in exasperated disbelief.

"For Harry to be anywhere else other than Hogwarts would be nothing short of disastrous, Minerva," Dumbledore affirmed in his typically soft tone. "I do not believe it matters which house he resides in so long as he is within these walls."

"The boy will do well in Slytherin," The Sorting Hat said defensively before the Headmaster could continue. "Many great wizards and witches have come from Slytherin. Nearly as many as have been born from Gryffindor!"

"I don't deny that Slytherin has produced great wizards and witches," McGonagall said with a note of anger in her voice. "Gryffindor has repeatedly had to produce the equivalent number of great witches and wizards or there would be no one to stand against those from that House when they made their bid for power!"

"Let us not forget," the Headmaster interjected in a soothingly calm voice, "that we are among friends here and want only the best for Harry. No one can deny that all the Houses here have had their fair share of talented witches and wizards," Dumbledore offered in an effort to placate them both.

"Potter has the potential to do great and wonderful things," The Sorting Hat told the both of them. "It is all right there in his head. I have not seen such promise since the young boy Riddle sat beneath my brim."

"Yes and we all know how he turned out," McGonagall snapped testily.

"Riddle did many great things," the Hat insisted adamantly, "great and terrible things…yet they were still great. Potter is in Slytherin because he requested to be there. I stand by my decision for sorting him as such." The old hat settled down into its usual position, a clear indicator that it was done discussing the matter.

McGonagall turned away from the hat to stare at the Headmaster pleadingly. "Potter has been through enough already. He's lost his parents and then to be raised by those Muggles! I've watched them and they are the worst sort of Muggles! It was a mistake to have ever left him there, Albus! You'll recall that I was against it in the first place."

"Dutifully noted. Harry seems to have grown into a bright young boy despite everything," the Headmaster replied with as he sucked upon his lemon drop. "Affording him a chance to grow up and have a normal childhood was something I felt was essential. Leaving him with his aunt was the safest means to insure that he lived and wasn't found by one of Voldemort's followers. Were that to happen we would be facing dark times in deed I fear. Only through the wards placed about that house, thanks in part to the blood relation found in Mrs. Dursley, were we able to ensure his safety," Dumbledore reminded her.

Minerva McGonagall sighed more in frustration and concern than anything else. "Do you truly believe he will do well in Slytherin, Albus?" she asked only to see the aged wizard nod that he did. "I can't help but feel he won't find any friends within that house. Is there truly nothing you can do for the boy?"

Dumbledore raised his hands and made a placating gesture towards his friend and Transfiguration Professor. "Unfortunate though it may be, Harry has already been sorted. We shall leave him in the capable hands of our potions master, Severus, till such time as there is a need to do otherwise."

"Very well," the witch replied with extreme reluctance clearly evident in each and every word. "I will keep a close watch on him though. I couldn't help but notice how he sat by himself after he was sorted. He barely spoke a word the entire evening." The witch recalled seeing the Malfoy boy sitting next to Harry for a short while before leaving in a huff. _I do not believe that Draco Malfoy is the sort of friend we want Mr. Potter to be making whilst here_. _Especially if the heir to the Malfoy line is anything like his father!_

"Learning to make friends is part of growing up," Dumbledore answered with, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "though I dare say I don't recall having been as young as our first year students are."

"Remember it or not, we were all young once," Minerva replied with a small wistful smile of her own, "I think." The dark haired witch turned and walked towards the door, pausing only as she neared the wooden barrier. "Good night, Headmaster," she offered with a slight bow of respect.

"Good night, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore responded with as he took a seat in his chair. "May your dreams be pleasant," he added just before his Deputy Headmistress left his office. Several minutes passed before there was another knock upon his door. "Come," he called out loud enough for the person to hear him.

"You called for me, Headmaster?" Severus Snape asked upon entering the room and closing the door behind him.

"Yes, yes, Severus," the Headmaster replied waving the potions professor over. "I would like to speak to you about one of your first year students, Harry Potter," he said as he reached for the bowl on his desk, removing the lid before offering, "Lemon drop?"

**-oOo-**

Harry cursed himself, and not for the first time that morning. He had awakened before his alarm had gone off and so had reached over and grasping the wand, canceled the charm to wake him. It was when he set the wand down and leaned back into his bed that he suddenly realized he didn't have anything to do this morning. He knew he had classes, however for the first time that he could remember; he didn't have hurry to the kitchen and prepare breakfast for the Dursleys. _This is even better than a holiday_ , he thought to himself as even on holidays he was still required to get up and cook for his relatives.

Harry had learned, shortly after taking over the cooking responsibilities from his aunt Petunia, that if his uncle didn't awake to the smell of bacon or some other frying meat there would be trouble. He didn't even want to think about not having tea ready for the both of them. The first time he had mistakenly forgotten their tea it had been most of the day before he could sit on his bum without feeling pain and nearly a week before the welts and marks went away. It was a lesson he made certain never to forget.

Realizing that he didn't have to cater to the Dursleys this morning, Harry folded his hands behind his head and leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes. Releasing a contented sigh at the sheer pleasure of being at Hogwarts he nodded off again. It was only the noise of his House mates getting ready for breakfast that saved him from sleeping in and missing the first class of the day.

The young boy of eleven rushed to get dressed, foregoing the shower he had wanted to take in favor of washing his face due to the time constraints. Glancing in the mirror hanging on the wall, he sighed heavily upon noticing the state of his unruly hair. He tried running his fingers through it to make it more presentable however the dark strands were having none of it today it seemed. "Hopefully they don't doc points for messy hair," he said aloud to the now empty room.

Grabbing his transfiguration book as well as the other school supplies he would need such as quill, ink and parchment, he ran from the Slytherin common room and made his way to the great hall where he managed to grab piece of toast. A few bites later a small glass of orange juice followed the toast into his stomach before he ran from the hall, one of the last students to leave.

Harry ran through the hallways, glad that the Transfiguration classroom was on the ground floor and not the seventh. _There's no telling how long it would take to make it up all those stairs_ , he thought to himself upon recalling the stairways that loved to change places. As the young Slytherin turned the corner he nearly ran into a red headed boy. _He's the one that spoke up in defense of the boy with the toad_ , Harry recalled. "Sorry," Harry offered as he skidded to a halt, barely missing the Gryffindor member.

The red head, who Harry remembered be called Ronald Weasley, seemed to suddenly notice the Slytherin House crest on Harry's robes. "Best be careful, snake," Ron spat at him displeasingly while puffing out his chest. The two boys eyed one another for a long moment before they both turned and sprinted to the end of the hallway and the classroom door.

Harry reached the door first, being the quickest of the pair, and opened it only to be shouldered aside by the Gryffindor student. "Blimey that was close. Made it here before McGonagall though," Ron said aloud before breathing a sigh of relief upon not seeing his Head of House there yet. Ron's expression turned to one of surprise as the tabby cat which had been seated upon the desk at the front of the class suddenly leaped off and transform into the very Professor he had mentioned.

"Not quite, Mr. Weasley," the witch told him as she stopped and gave him a stern look that nearly had the young boy quaking in his shoes. "That will be five points from-"

"I'm sorry Professor," Harry suddenly spoke up drawing the Professor's, as well as everyone else's, eyes to him. It was hard not to squirm under all the attention his words brought to him. Harry racked his brain furiously to try and think of what to say. "Ronald is late because of me," he told her, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

McGonagall arched a brow slightly and peered over the top edge of her square glass. "Just how may that be, Mr. Potter?" No stranger to students and their excuses for being tardy she was certain that whatever the young wizard came up with she would have heard before.

"H…he was looking for the classroom," Harry stammered trying to make up a convincing enough story, "when he bumped into me. I thought I knew the way and offered to guide him," Harry explained nervously licking his lips. "All I did was manage to get us both properly lost. So it's my fault that we're both late to class."

"Is that correct, Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked turning her gaze upon the gobsmacked red head.

Ron didn't know what to say. If someone would have told him that a Slytherin would be taking the blame to save him from costing his house points he would surely have thought them mental. The youngest Weasley at Hogwarts couldn't even find the words to say anything he was so surprised. The best he could do was nod to his Head of House.

The Professor eyed them both for a long moment. "Very well then. There is a map within the student handbook. I highly suggest you both study it tonight…in great detail. You may take your seats," she told them with a wave of her hand and she walked back towards the front of the class room. "Five points for Slytherin…for going out of their way for a member of another House," McGonagall intoned to the surprise of everyone in the room.

Harry took the only open seat at a workbench next to a dark skinned boy from Slytherin. Once he had his book opened as well as his parchment and quill ready he hazard a glance towards Ron, only to see the Gryffindor shoot a glare in his direction. The redhead's actions completely confused Harry. _Did I do something to offend him_ , he wondered. He didn't think he had but being new to the Wizarding world he realized he really had no clear understand of what was considered offensive and what wasn't.

"Nicely played, Potter," the boy next to him whispered as the Professor began her lecture. "Not only did you gain us points but the little lion now owes you for saving his hide. Judging by the looks he's been shooting you he realizes it as well. I guess you're smarter than Malfoy would have everyone believe."

Harry couldn't help but wonder what the blonde boy had been saying about him behind his back. He was fairly certain it was nothing flattering. His curiosity must have shown on his face he realized as the boy leaned over closer so that others wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Malfoy was busy trying last night and this morning to convince everyone that it would be in their best interest to keep as far away from you as possible. He was telling everyone that you were a prat and ' _excessively full of yourself_ ' as he put it," the boy explained. "By the way names Blaise, Blaise Zabini," he added offering a hand towards Harry.

Harry took the hand and shook it once, "Harry," he said flatly.

"Harry, really? I would never have guessed," Blaise replied with, an infectious grin upon his features that caused Harry to smile as well after he realized that everyone in the school must already know his name. "The whole Boy-Who-Lived thing kind of gives it away," Blaise added.

"Can't get anything past you can I?" Harry retorted with in a hushed whisper cause the boy next to him to grin all the more. Glancing about the room his emerald eyes alighted upon Draco and his brow creased in worry. _I've still no clue what I did to offend him last night_.

Blaise followed Harry's line of sight and then leaned in before whispering, "Don't worry about Malfoy. He's usually high strung and overly sensitive. Best thing you can do is ignore him," Blaise advised.

"I know his type all too well," Harry whispered back, thinking of his cousin Dudley. "Sometimes they won't let you ignore them."

"Well for now he just wants to isolate you. If that's all it is then I would say count your blessings, mate." Seeing the confused look on Harry's face the dark boy explained. "The alternative is being friends with the little git."

"Wo…won't you get," Harry nodded towards Malfoy slightly before continuing, "you know…harassed for talking to me?"

"I don't play Malfoy's types of games," Blaise told him in a firm tone. "I also don't take kindly to anyone telling me what to do." Harry admired his resolve to be the way he wanted to be and wished he could do the same. "He likes to use his family's name, wealth and connections to get his way," Blaise told Harry in a disgusted tone of voice. "A prime example of a Pureblood if ever there was one."

"I have a cousin like him only he uses his size and the fact that he's older to his advantage. Call it what you will but it amounts to the same thing," Harry replied quietly, "Bullying."

Blaise nodded in agreement, "A bully will always bully you till you stand up to them. That's something my father taught me. All it took was standing up to him once and he's left me alone since then."

"You knew Malfoy prior to Hogwarts?" Harry asked curiously.

"Our families travel in the same circles," the dark boy replied. "Most Pureblood families do. Draco is cut from the same cloth as his father though so I guess he can't help being a prat. It's no doubt been breed into him since he was knee high."

"That's no excuse for being that way," Harry hissed.

"True enough," Blaise agreed readily, "however when it's your folks telling you that it's the proper way to be it's hard to argue with." There was not much Harry could say to that.

Both boys turned and started paying attention as Professor McGonagall started to go over the day's exercise of turning matchsticks into pins. _There's more to magic than waving a wand and saying some silly words_ , Harry sighed mentally as he had as yet to produce a pin after fifteen minutes of trying. It was small consolation that Blaise was have just as much or as little, depending on how you wanted to look at it, trouble as he was.

A small explosion on the Gryffindor side of the room caused all eyes to turn and look at the boy s with a blackened face who was seated next to Ron Weasley. Professor McGonagall looked over before commenting, "Mr. Finnigan, please come up and get another match," she told the slightly stunned and embarrassed Gryffindor member. "Perhaps you should take a couple…just in case?" With a mute nod of agreement Seamus Finnigan did as instructed before returning to his seat.

It was a bushy haired witch who was first to transfigure the match to a pin. Harry seemed to recall that her name was Granger or something of the sort. Shortly thereafter a blonde Slytherin girl seated near the back of the class completed the assignment as well. Try as he might Harry could not get the transfiguration to work by the time class was over.

"Well done Ms. Granger and Ms. Greengrass," Professor McGonagall said loudly for all to hear. "Five point to both your Houses for being the only ones able to complete the assignment in class. For the rest of you, I want you to practice and we will give it a try once more at the beginning of our next class."

Professor McGonagall sat at her desk and watched the students filter out through the single door. Her eyes alighted upon Harry as he walked beside Blaise, the two chatting softly with each other. She hadn't missed their hushed discussion during class either. Where normally she would have called them out for it she hadn't in the hopes that the dark haired boy might make at least one friend.


	4. Transfiguration

Harry James Potter sat and stared at the book before him, reading the words through once again. The young wizard had already read them often enough that he could nearly recite them verbatim.

" _The transformation is directly influenced by bodyweight, viciousness, wand power, concentration as well as a final undefined element. It is only through the proper balance of all of these factors combined that a true transfiguration can occur."_

_It has to be that final element_ , he told himself. _What else could I be missing?_ he pondered lost in thought. Harry raked his brain attempting to determine just what he was doing wrong and couldn't come up with a suitable answer to his dilemma. _I am a wizard aren't I?_ The-Boy-Who–Lived suddenly had a thought that sent a cold shiver down his spine. _What if they were wrong and I'm not a wizard at all? What if Hagrid came to the wrong house or someone mixed up my name for the right person?_ It never occurred to the distraught boy that he need only look in the mirror and spy the scar upon his brow to assure himself that there had been no mistake.

After Transfiguration he had went to the great hall and ate lunch like everyone else. Unlike everyone else though he had sat alone and didn't speak with anyone else at the table. Sitting as he was once again, nearest the head table, none of the other Slytherin's sat near him even. This was acceptable, even preferred, by Harry as it was what he was more or less used to. Meals throughout his life had never been a social time for him but rather a solitary prelude to dish washing. Being the only occupant of the cupboard under the stairs it wasn't like he had anyone else to speak to after all. At least during his final month at home he had the company of Hedwig to brighten his dismal existence.

Slipping an apple from a golden bowl upon the table, Harry dropped it into one of the many inner pockets of his robe before rising and walking briskly from the hall with his head cast down. He had as yet to determine just why there were so many pockets within the robe but he figured he would put them to good use. His greatest fear at that moment was that someone had seen him filch the food and would make him give it back. He had once been spied by his aunt filching food which had resulted in a whipping when his uncle had arrived home that evening as well as the loss of meals for an entire day. It wasn't an experience the dark haired boy was want to repeat ever again. Cheeks ablaze with both embarrassment and remorse, the would-be-wizard quickly left the great hall.

Harry made his way through the halls of the old spacious castle, glad that once again his class for the afternoon was not on one of the other floors. Emerald eyes looked up and read the plate next to the classroom door where his feet and the map within the student handbook had finally brought him.

Classroom 4F  
Professor Cuthbert Binns  
History of Magic

Harry knocked once and waited before knocking once again upon not receiving an answer. When no voice called out to him, emboldened by the silence, Harry cautiously opened the door and stuck his head in. The room was a typical classroom with empty desks neatly arranged, with a larger professor's desk at the head of the classroom situated before a wall covered by blackboards. The other three walls were lined with bookshelves, filled to bursting with books on history. It would appear that he was the first to arrive for their afternoon class.

Harry opened the door the remainder of the way before walking to the back desk in the further corner though closest to the large windows and taking his seat. No sooner had his bum hit the wooden chair than he had out his copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch and his nose buried in it. As he sat and slowly read over the first few chapters other students arrived in pairs, groups or singularly as was their want. Those within Slytherin sat on the same side of the room as Harry had while those from Hufflepuff, the house they were sharing this class with, filled up the other side of the classroom.

When the entire class was present a ghost suddenly floated through the wall where the blackboards were and paused behind the professor's desk. "I am Professor Binns and for the next five years, unless you decide upon pursuing your NEWT's, you will be attending my class." Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise. "I deal with facts and not conjecture or hearsay in my classroom. If there are no questions?" his semi-translucent bald head pivoted as he glanced about the room once. "Very well then, let us begin," he continued as he opened a transparent notebook and began to read verbatim in a single monotone voice.

Harry, having already read the book they were studying, cover to cover, listened for a moment before returning his attention to the transfiguration book opened before him on his desk.

' _The caster must inherently know that what they see before them is what they are transfiguring the object to. If one does not believe that the end result is exactly what they want it to be then it will never happen. You must not only know but also see it as clearly as you see your own hand before you when you look at it._ '

Harry sighed heavily, certain the answer to his problem resided in that one single paragraph, and yet like a birthday present from the Dursleys it constantly eluded him. The young wizard was nudged from his musings by the elbow of the person seated next to him. Harry looked up and was surprise to find Blaise Zabini seated next to him.

"Potter, tell me that isn't _A History Of Magic_ you're reading so intently," Blaise whispered aghast at the possibility.

Harry grinned while shaking his head. Lifting the book and tilting it towards Blaise so he could see the page headers Harry replied, "No, Transfiguration."

"Almost as bad," Blaise said with a disgusted face only to grin as he nodded towards Crabbe and Goyle who were both asleep already. "At least it will keep you awake in here which is a rarity." Both boys paused to look towards the front of the class where Professor Binns continued droning on.

Harry grinned noticing that even many of the Hufflepuff's were catching naps apparently. "I read the book before term started," Harry confided in the dark boy. "He's pretty much reading it word for word."

"Bloody hell, Potter!" Blaise swore loudly causing them both to look nervously towards the front of the class room. Professor Binns seemed to be in a world all his own and paid them, as well as the rest of the class, no mind. "What would ever cause you to read that book before school ever started?"

Harry shrugged slightly. "Better to read it then and save the time now for what I really want to study," he told his House mate with a pointed glance to the book before him. "When you're reading it tonight I'll be studying transfiguration instead. With any luck I will be able to make that match a pin come next class," Harry told him with a degree of certainty in his voice.

Blaise could do little more than shake his head. "I can think of any number of things to do other than reading school books before term starts…all of them more exciting than what you did."

"Maybe," Harry conceded willingly. "I actually found it rather interesting," Harry stated only to see a look of surprise on the other boys face. "I didn't know there was a Wizarding world till I received my Hogwarts letter," he quickly added in way of explanation. "It was all new to me and vastly more interesting than my own life," Harry finished with.

"Blimey, didn't your folks tell you about anything?" Blaise asked in disbelief.

"Folks died when I was a babe," Harry reminded him. "I was raised by relatives who were Muggles and didn't know anything."

"That must have been rough," Blaise whispered. Harry just shrugged noncommittally and Blaise got the impression that it wasn't a topic that the boy wanted to talk about. He, more so than most of the other first years, could well understand having a past that you'd prefer to forget. As the only son of a witch that had been married seven times in his short life, he had been on the receiving end of several unpleasant experiences which he was in no hurry to share or relive.

"Are you planning on trying out for the Slytherin Quidditch team?" Blaise enquired to change the subject.

"What's Quidditch?" Harry asked earning him an astonished look from his House mate.

"Were you really that sheltered, Potter?" Blaise asked only to see the puzzled expression on Harry face. "Blimey, those Muggles behavior must be criminal not have told you anything! Quidditch is the best…no, it's the _only_ sport that matters. You play it upon brooms." Blaise supplied in the hopes it might ring a bell to the clueless boy.

"Never rode a broom," Harry told him, not certain he liked the idea of riding one or not. "Not sure I'd be any good at it."

"Look, do yourself a favor, mate. Go to the library after class and check out the book _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and read it," Blaise advised. "Each house has their own team which plays against the other house teams. When Slytherin's team plays it is considered bad form not to be there to support them, especially as the winner gets points towards the House Cup. Read the book so that you don't embarrass me or yourself."

Harry nodded slightly. "I'll see if they have it. I had already planned on going to the library after class anyways," Harry informed the other boy. Upon seeing Blaise arch a brow in question Harry tilted up the Transfiguration book once again before replying, "I want to see if they have any other transfiguration books I can read."

"Pardon me if I don't share your enthusiasm for studying any topic other than the class I am in," Blaise said as he slid down in his seat to get into a more comfortable position. "Wake me up when class is over, Potter," he said as he closed his eyes. Harry just grinned and returned to studying the book in front of him.

After class Harry made his way to the third floor of Hogwarts, specifically to the doorway that the map within the student handbook stated was the main entrance to the library. The first thing he noticed upon stepping through the door was the overwhelming scent of parchment. It wasn't an unpleasant odor he decided but he knew no one would ever mistake this room for anything other than what it was, a wondrous library!

Extending from the main doors was a wide aisle that led up to a large, dark, oak counter. Every several feet along the aisle were rows upon rows of shelves filled to bursting with thousands of books. Harry slowly walked along the aisle, his eyes wide and staring in disbelief at all the books. The young wizard could already see himself spending a great deal of time in a place like this. There were even walkways extended from balances on the second and third floors forming a lattice work of crossways above the spacious first floor of the library. _How can anyone find anything here_ , he pondered as he neared the counter. _There must be tens of thousands of books here!_ Harry had thought the public library back in the village of Little Whinging had been large; however it would scarcely take up more than a small corner of the room he now stood within.

"May I help you young man?" asked a sharp feminine voice which cut through his gawking and promptly brought his attention to the tall lady standing behind the counter. "Well speak up child. I haven't all day," she chided as two sixth or seventh year students, apparently library aids, grinned at his obvious nervousness.

Harry swallowed heavily trying to recall why he was here as all his mind seemed to be able to do was draw blanks to her question. The woman was dressed in dark somber colors with a black pointed witch's hat upon her head. She was thin, irritable and looked like an underfed vulture with a very severe and strict demure about her, Harry thought upon first observing her. "P…pardon me Ma`am," Harry finally managed to stammer as he saw her brow crease in irritation at the delayed response to her inquiry.

"Madam Pince," the woman provided. "I am Hogwart's Librarian. What are you looking for, boy?"

"Yes Ma`am," Harry swallowed heavily only to see the woman's eyes narrow dangerously. "Madam Pince," he quickly corrected, breathing a sigh of relief upon seeing her features soften to a slight scowl which was normal for her…or so he assumed. "I was hoping I might find other books regarding Transfiguration."

"Do you not have your _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_?" Irma Pince enquired of the boy before her, who nodded sharply to indicate that he did. It was while his head shook that the dark bangs swung far enough out of the way that she saw the scar upon his forehead. "Perhaps if you told me what exactly you're looking for Mr. Potter," she asked, making an educated guess as to who it was before her based on what she had seen.

Harry shrugged slightly before replying. "I'm not really certain, Madam Pince," he confessed, not realizing that she had addressed him by name. "I'm hoping there is something that will further explain the process as well as the formula used in Transfiguration. Really, anything that might help me better understand the subject," he said looking up at the adult before him hopefully.

"I think I have the gist of what you need," Irma said as she stepped out from behind the counter. "Before we proceed you need be aware of something, Mr. Potter," she said pointing to a brass plague on the front of the counter. Harry leaned forward and read it.

' _A warning: If you rip, tear, shred, bend, fold, deface, disfigure, smear, smudge, throw, drop, or in any other manner damage, mistreat, or show lack of respect towards these books, the consequences will be as awful as it is within my power to make them._ '

Harry swallowed heavily, paling slightly after reading the warning. "I…I understand, Madam Pince," he told the Librarian a bit fearfully.

Irma eyed him shrewdly for a long moment till she was certain his understood the consequences should he not adhere to the rules within her library. "Very well then," she finally said crisply. "Follow me." Without further words she walked off with the dark haired boy hurrying to keep up with her long strides.

Harry soon discovered that the library itself was a series of shelves that ran every which way and he soon found himself completely lost within the maze of aisles, shelves, chairs and study tables. In far shorter time than Harry was certain it would have taken him, Madam Pince had four books in hand and led him to a wide open area which had several tables for studying.

"When you are finished with the books bring them to the counter and I'll show you how to return them to their proper places," the Librarian stated as she sat the books down upon a vacant table. "Will there be anything else, Mr. Potter?"

"No, thank you Madam Pince," Harry replied as he pulled out the chair nearest the books only to cringe at the seeming loud noise the wooden legs made upon the stone flooring. Slipping into the upholstered wooden backed chair he watch the woman walk away to quickly disappear among the rows of bookshelves. Harry lifted the first book from the pile and with a soft sigh opened it and began to read.

**-oOo-**

"I may have trouble falling asleep tonight," Tracey Davis proclaimed to her friend as she stepped into the great hall for the evening meal. "After that long nap in Professor Binns' classroom we might have to sit up for some time." The Slytherin girl grinned as she stretched as if she was just now waking up.

Daphne Greengrass chuckled at her friend's words, mostly because there was more truth in them than she cared to admit. She had tried to stay awake in the class yet the single monotone voice of the professor was like a Siren's song that lured most the class to slumber. "Maybe as a ghost he only has that one tone to work with," she speculated to her friend as they made their way to the Slytherin table and found seats for themselves.

The tables were filled with students of all years as they awaited the meal to start. The great hall was abuzz with chatter as well as laughter and good natured razzing that one would expect to find in a school, be it magical or Muggle. Above their heads the usual sea of lit candles floated beneath the darkened sky depicted as the ceiling of the great hall of Hogwarts.

"At least I know where I can catch up on my sleep," Stacey said with a chuckle as she slipped her arm through her best friends while playfully laying her head upon Daphne's shoulder as if it were a pillow. "Binns' class will be the perfect place to snooze away the afternoon. A girl can never have too much beauty sleep after all!"

"I wouldn't think Greengrass would need to be concerned about beauty sleep," suddenly spoke a sickening sweet voice from behind them causing both girls to pause abruptly. "She's already a pureblood, what more could she possible require?" Draco asked. At his young age the thought that a young girl might actually wish to be thought of as pretty hadn't really entered the young Malfoy's mind.

"How would you know what a girl fancies, Draco?" Tracey asked testily. "A little privacy to her conversation might be a good place to start though if you were wondering," Tracey snarled at the pale, light haired boy standing behind them currently wearing a smirk upon his face at his own self-perceived wittiness.

"I wasn't speaking to you, Davis," Draco threw back at the auburn haired Slytherin as his grey eyes flashed angrily at the intrusion into what he saw as a private conversation between himself and the Greengrass girl. "This is a conversation between us purebloods. You would do well to mind your betters!"

"Mr. Malfoy," Daphne spoke up finally without even turning to look at the boy behind her, "for someone who seems intent to garnish my attention you do a remarkably brilliant job of saying all the wrong things at the worst times. I would appreciate it if you would please find yourself a seat somewhere else as we're about to dine and I would hate to lose my appetite suddenly," she pointedly told him in a calm and even tone.

Draco shot Tracey a venomous glare but wisely held his tongue from saying anything further that would hurt his chances of speaking with the blonde witch. Left with the choice of standing there looking foolish or doing as told by the girl who had as yet to even glance in his direction, what could he do? Without further words Draco turned and made his way further down the table and found a spot across from where his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, were seated. The young boy's posture and expression clearly indicated just how put out he was by the results of his most recent attempt to speak with the blonde witch.

"I wish I knew what he was playing at," Daphne said in a soft voice meant only for Tracey to hear. The looks that Crabbe and Goyle were sending their direction did not escape either witch's notice. "Watch yourself near those two, Tracey," Daphne said, worried for her friend even though that sounded strange being only eleven years old. "I have a bad feeling."

"They're just boys," Tracey snorted, not worried in the least. "They wouldn't dare do anything." Any further conversation on the matter was placed on hold as the food suddenly started to appear and everyone busied themselves with eating. For a while conversation was muted by the clang of utensils off of plates and platters as students did their best to appease their appetites.

The two girls walked back down to the dungeons and into the Slytherin common room once they were done eating. "What do you want to do, Daphne?" Tracey asked already knowing the answer to her question.

Daphne looked to the girl next to her and couldn't help but grin. Judging by the look on Tracey's face she could tell that her best friend already knew the answer to the question she had just asked. "I need to read what I missed in class today," the blonde told her in a serious tone. "After that I want to go over the next Transfiguration lesson," Daphne added with a grin upon noticing the sour look upon her friend's face.

"But our next lesson won't be for another week," Tracey protested strenuously. Having grown up with the eldest Greengrass child she was well aware that Daphne was a rarity and actually enjoyed school and studying. Unlike herself who was content to do just enough to get by. "Surely you can wait till at least second week before giving into your academic urges?"

"I know," Daphne agreed, understanding her friend's reluctance. "I just don't want Granger to get the jump on me," she confessed. "Besides, I think I might actually be pretty good at it."

Tracey just rolled her eyes with a surrendering grin at her friend. "I guess I can't fault you there as you did earn us five points today. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt me to study a bit ahead in that class either," she added reluctantly. "That Professor McGonagall doesn't strike me as the type to show much leniency toward those who don't put forth the effort in her class."

"I don't know," Daphne counter with as she eyed her friend thoughtfully. "If you're not careful you might cause that cute head of yours to explode." Tracey grabbed a small pillow from the couch at hand and hit her friend with it causing them both to break into a fit of giggles as they raced off to retrieve their books and supplies.

The two friends found an empty place at the large round table and seated themselves. The next hour was spent going over lessons and the soft scratch of quill on parchment as they jotted down notes. Other Slytherins came and went from the table without the two first year girls paying them much attention. So when someone sat next to her, Daphne hardly even registered their presence. "Greengrass, we need to talk," Draco's voice spoke near her elbow unexpectedly.

A slight pause of the blonde girl's quill upon the parchment before her was the only indication that she heard the heir to the Malfoy family. Daphne's blue eyes didn't miss how Tracey, seated on the other side of her, tensed at the boy's words.

Draco waited for several long moments before he sighed slightly, clearly frustrated by the entire events of the evening. Never before had someone ignored him. Being the only child of one of the wealthier Houses within the Wizarding world had afforded him a certain degree of automatic respect which he had become accustomed to. He was, at best, a boy who was used to getting his own way and at worst a self-entitled aristocrat who didn't take kindly to being ignored. Faced with a girl who not only didn't want to dance to his tune but refused to show him the respect he felt he deserved, left him more than a little confused and irritated.

"Daphne, please," Draco tried once again, making certain that his voice was soft, soothing and reflected none of the seething anger he felt inside at the moment. He had, on a few occasions, heard his father use a similar tone of voice. It was when he wanted someone's cooperation but didn't want to force them into it by more direct means. ' _A willing accomplice is far more amendable than one forced to comply under duress,_ ' he could hear his father's voice saying to him.

Daphne looked up towards her friend with a straight and emotionless face. "Tracey, have you noticed the deplorable behavior that passes for manners these days within some of the pureblood house?" she inquired. "It really is unacceptable what would appear to be considered common courtesies these days."

Tracey had to struggle for a moment to keep from grinning before she was able to play along. "I always thought that the old families were looked upon to set the standard for the rest of us to follow. Perhaps it is too much to hope for that they would properly educate their off-spring in what is suitable for the refined gentile of society these days."

Daphne chewed on the end of her quill as if thinking her friends words over. "I'm certain that there must be some houses that still know how to properly address a lady of standing. It would be truly disgraceful if they did not see fit teach this most basic of courtesies to their children."

Draco finally caught on to the thinly veiled accusations that were present in the exchanges between the two girls. The youth nearly cringed at what his mother would have said to him had she been present at that moment. Reluctantly he rose to his feet to address the seated blonde. "Ms. Greengrass, might I please have a moment of your time?" Draco enquired in as pleasant a tone as he could muster given the circumstances.

Daphne set her quill down carefully before turning in her seat to regard the light haired boy. "Why Mr. Malfoy, my apologies, I didn't see you there. I would be pleased to speak with you," she told the boy and was rewarded by seeing hope dawning within his eyes. "However I fear I am currently engaged in my studies and it would not be advantageous at this time to acquiesce to your request."

Draco licked his lips as he tried to process what had just happened. He was certain that Daphne was about to agree to his request only to have his legs cut out from under him at the last moment. "I was hoping we could discuss a matter of importance to the future of both our houses as well as ourselves," he said in a terse manner, while trying to rein in his growing temper.

"Yes, and I was hoping not to have classwork tonight," Daphne replied with a sweet smile that was clearly forced. "It would appear as though neither of us will be having our hopes fulfilled this evening." Draco could do nothing but stand there fuming in disbelief. "That will be all, Mr. Malfoy. Good evening," Daphne said in dismissal before picking up her quill and turning in her seat so that her back was once more towards him.

Draco stood there a full minute as he digested what she had done to him before storming out of the room towards the boy's dormitory with Crabbe and Goyle in hot pursuit. Their little performance had not gone unnoticed by others in the common room which had suddenly fallen quiet.

Tracey exhaled the breath she had been holding in and then grinned at her friend only to see Daphne's hand that held the quill trembling as the adrenaline coursing through the blonde's body ebbed away. The auburn haired girl quickly reached out and grasped her friends hand and only then became aware that the tremors were running through the girl's entire body and were only being held in check by an act of will.

"Tracey, I need to get out of here," Daphne whispered through clench teeth even as she fought to maintain the tenuous hold she held upon her emotions. She truly hated being distant and acting as if she were better than others. The meal from dinner was even then threatening to vacate her stomach.

Recalling how her friend had nearly become ill on the train Tracey didn't argue. "Want me to go with you?" she asked worriedly.

"No," Daphne said hesitantly before taking a long slow steadying breath. "I think I'll find someplace else to finish my work tonight." Tracey simply nodded as she watched her friend gather her things and beat a hasty retreat from the Slytherin common room. Once free of the commons room the slender Slytherin girl set off for the left side of the third floor of Hogwarts, where the library could be found.

**-oOo-**

Hermione sighed as she set her books down upon the table and dropped into the upholstered wooden backed chair. Transfiguration class that morning had been everything she had hoped it would be. The bushy haired brunette smiled as she recalled how it had felt when her match had turned into a pin. All of her worries and hard work were instantly justified as the silver pin caught the afternoon sunshine streaming in through the window and seemed to sparkle just for her as it lay there on her desk. It was one of the best moments in her young life and one she was certain to treasure for a long time to come. The following awarding of points at the end of the class had been the icing on her velvet cupcake.

_The day was near perfect_ , _marred only by Ronald waving his wand around as if it was a sword_ , she recalled being fearful that he would poke out an eye, his or her own she wasn't certain at the time. Her completing the assignment didn't seem to help the boy any as his demeanor had turned sulky which only further prevented him from completing the work himself.

Lunch had also been an enjoyable event once everyone found out that she had earned Gryffindor five points. With people coming up and congratulating her and patting her one the back she had, for the first time ever, truly felt a part of something other than her own family. _They are my family_ , she quickly corrected herself, _at least for as long as I'm here_. Thinking about lunch though reminded her of the one truly low point of her day thus far.

The young witch had been seated next to Ron Weasley while conversing with his twin brothers who were seated across from them. Hermione was trying not to watch the youngest of the redheads next to her eat. _Honestly! Where does he put it all_? she wondered. The twins were chatting about their newest potion when a motion at the head of the Slytherin table caught her attention. Normally she would have paid it no mind, being focused upon her own table, however she had just seen Ronald reaching for more food. Deciding it would probably be better to look away to save her own stomach from rebelling, her eyes had caught the movement. As she watched she saw the boy they had all learned the previous evening was Harry Potter stand up and slip an apple into his robes.

At first she thought nothing of it. It was written in the student handbook that students could take what food they wished from the great hall, so long as it was not consumed in the few areas within the castle where food was not allowed such as the library. The-Boy-Who-Lived quickly walked past the table, passing behind the twins. Hermione clearly saw the pained guilty look upon the dark haired boy's face. It was apparent to her that he must have felt terrible for taking the apple. The young witch nearly jumped from her seat to chase after him to tell him it was alright, but before she could Ron had turned to talk to her and she had to look away from the food on his face as well as in his mouth. Then by the time she was able to look towards the door to the great hall, the Slytherin boy was already gone.

After lunch Hermione sat the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The kind hearted witch felt bad for the Professor as everyone seemed to make fun of him due to his speech impediment and low constitution. Hermione maintained that it wasn't his fault, though this belief didn't keep her from the realization that Professor Quirrell's lessons in the class were less than exemplary. It was this very fact that caused her to being studying this evening. Fearing that she had not garnished all that she could from the lesson she planned to reread the chapter again.

The young witch had attempted to study in her own common room, but between Ronald asking people to play chess and Seamus's loud laughter she quickly determined the environment was not conducive to reading. With a resigned sigh she had grabbed her bags and made her way to the library. For the first year student it was like coming home as she had spent a great deal of time in libraries before coming to Hogwarts. Among the books and reference materials she felt at peace.

Hermione absently pushed her hair behind one ear as she arranged her parchment upon the table and set her _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ book open where she could easily see it. Reading the first page she lifted her quill and dipped it in the never-fill ink well affixed near the center of the table. Glancing up her brown eyes fell upon a mess of dark hair sitting at the table diagonally from her own. _Harry Potter?_ she thought to herself in mild surprise at seeing him there after just having been contemplating him. _It's almost like magic_ ; she thought but quickly dismissed the notion that her thoughts had called him forth. _Even in Hogwarts there were limits to what magic can do_ , she told herself with a small crooked smile. The boy had his nose in a book with several others scattered upon the table before him.

The young witch blinked as she watched the The-Boy-Who-Lived set the book he was reading aside before reaching for next one, the last in the stack apparently. Thinking back Hermione didn't recall seeing the bespectacled boy at the evening meal. _Is that why he took the apple?_ she pondered as she forced herself to look down at the blank parchment and begin to scribble down notes.

_Maybe he knew he wouldn't be attending dinner and hence he took the apple_? Hermione began writing once again, certain that was the reason. As she wrote down important facts for several minutes she paused to dip her quill when a sudden thought struck her as she recalled Harry's expression when he left the hall. _If he took it because he knew he would be studying late and miss diner then why did he look so torn when he took the apple_?

Hermione continued to read and take notes but she couldn't resist looking up every so often at the boy studying close at hand. _I should tell him_ , she told herself. _What if I do and he gets embarrassed? I could hurt his feelings._ The young Gryffindor debated the matter with herself for some time, but was unable to come to a decision.

Setting her quill aside she sighed heavily. _I have to tell him_ , she finally decided. _He clearly felt terrible for taking the apple_ , she reasoned. _What if he does it again? Couldn't that kind of guilt eat at him, causing his distress over something that shouldn't_? Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. _Maybe I'll just ask him about it? I can ask him if he read that part in the student handbook._ Hermione smiled realizing she finally had the answer to her dilemma. The bushy haired witch looked up sharply only to see that the dark haired boy was no longer sitting at the table and the books were gone as well.

Hermione sighed dejectedly at her own inability to act. _Why didn't I just get up and walk over to him? Now he's going to continue to be distraught over what he did and it's my entire fault!_ The young witch chastised herself as once again she allowed herself to over analyze something till it was too late to do anything about it. "If I had just done it right away I could have told him," she berated herself.

"Done what?" asked a puzzled voice directly behind Hermione causing the young girl to shriek and spring to her feet while spinning around. "I'm sorry," Harry quickly exclaimed as he held his hands up to show that he meant no harm. "I didn't mean to scare you," he added taking a step backwards to give her some room.

"I…I wasn't scared," Hermione said abruptly even as her heart was racing so fast her chest hurt. "You startled me is all," she clarified coolie as if it wasn't a big deal. _I'm glad I didn't say anything else aloud_ , she thought thankfully. "You shouldn't be sneaking up behind people," she admonished him, her voice suddenly becoming stern as she glared at him.

Emerald eyes regarded the young witch for a long moment while a small bemused smile tugged at the corners of Harry's lips. "You're correct, of course," Harry admitted. "I am terribly sorry, even though it wasn't my intent." Harry tried not to squirm under the girl's piercing brown eyes which had him feeling exposed in some manner. It wasn't a feeling he enjoyed or wanted to experience again. "I'm Harry," he said nervously extending his hand in the hopes it would distract the girl.

Hermione couldn't for the life of her figure out why the boy was apparently nervous. Never had she had someone be like that with her. Normally, due to past experiences with making friends, she was the nervous one. "Hermione Granger," she said accepting the offered hand and shaking it twice. _It's so warm_ , she noted silently to herself, _and clammy_.

"Ms. Granger, I was wondering if I might ask you a question?" Harry asked after a moment of awkward silence that stretched on uncomfortably for the both of them. Still nervous, Harry ran a shaky hand through his dark strands effecting little change to their perpetual state of disarray.

"Not if you're going to continue to call me Ms. Granger," the brown haired witch said with a small smile. "Please call me Hermione. Ms. Granger makes me sound really old like my Mom." Hermione saw Harry smile but couldn't help but notice the twinge of sorry that seemed to haunt his green eyes which the smile never reached.

"Hermione," Harry said to comply with her request only to suddenly feel slightly embarrassed calling a girl he had just met by her first name. "I...I was wondering if you could tell me how you did it?" he finally asked the question that had been the reason for his returning here after putting the transfiguration books back per the instructions from Madam Pince.

Hermione thought for a second and then understood what he was referencing. "You mean the match this morning," she stated as she fished within her robe and withdrew her match from class. Professor McGonagall had allowed her and the Slytherin girl to keep their matches as a kind of a trophy for completing the task in class. "You want to know how I transfigured it?"

Harry nodded and eyed the match longingly, wishing he had his as well. "I know I am missing something but I have no idea what it is," Harry confessed, frustration practically dripping from every word. "I read the beginning of the book so many times I practically have it memorized," he stated as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, only managing to mess it up even more.

Hermione extended her hand and offered him the match she was holding. "Is that what you were doing here?" she asked softly as she watched him take the match from her fingers as if it was the Holy Grail or something of equal value. "Studying transfiguration?" she inquired as she regarded him, noting the look of undisguised longing in his eyes as he stared at her match.

"I thought if I read other books on the theory and principles of it that something would click," he told her without taking his eyes off the match he now held between his thumb and forefinger.

"You have to concentrate really hard," she told him as she shifted her chair back into place and sat before motioning for him to sit in the chair next to hers.

"If I concentrated any harder I'm certain my head would explode," he replied with a lopsided grin as he slid into the vacant chair, one foot curled up under his other leg. "I've gone over the formula time and time again," he assured her glancing away. Harry didn't want her to see the fear he felt which he was certain was reflected upon his face. Fear that maybe he wasn't missing anything but instead just couldn't perform the transfiguration. "It has to be that one undefined element!" he said thumping his closed fist against the table top in frustration and a desperate desire for that to be the reason. The alternative was not something he wished to contemplate. Harry turned and looked at Hermione earnestly, "Can you please describe exactly how you did it for me Hermione?"

Hermione stared at his serious face and found that she couldn't say no to him. Not that she would, even if it had been someone else sitting there. It wasn't in the young girl's nature not to give aide when it was requested of her. "Most of the conditions are easy to meet," she told him. "The weight, wand power and concentration are all there already. All I did…," the young witch paused as she replayed the events from earlier that day in her head as Harry hung on her every word. "…well…I guess if I can to put it into words it would be that I just _knew_ it was a pin."

"You just _knew_?" a perplexed Harry asked trying to understand what she was telling him.

Hermione's brow creased as she thought about her own words and that morning. "Maybe _knew_ isn't the right word. I believed that it was a pin," she told him only to see his brow crease as well. "Maybe you have to believe so much that you just _know_ it's going to be what you know it is," she offered with a shrug of her shoulders. Seeing the skeptical look on his face she added, "Never underestimate the power of belief. Instead of seeing a match you need to see it as a pin that is pretending to be a match."

Harry stood, setting the match upon the table reluctantly, before he started to pace back and forth within the short area behind their chairs. "So I need to merely believe," he pondered aloud thoughtfully as he ran her words through his head once again. "It's a pin that only appears to be a match," he said aloud more to himself than to Hermione. "That's all I have to do?" Harry asked, pausing in his pacing to look at her quizzically.

"No, it's more than just that. There is the concentration as well as the wand and the motion that goes with it. It's only when all of that, as well as your belief come together that it will work," she instructed him.

Harry resumed his pacing, his eyes cast to the floor, lost in thought. The witch's words rang fairly similar to those within the book Harry had read most of the afternoon in Professor Binns' classroom while listening to Blaise softly snore next to him.

Harry paused in his pacing and sighed softly once as he realized he was really no closer to understanding it than he had been before. _Just how does one know something is other than what it is?_ "Thank you Hermione," he said as he offered her a smile meant to express his appreciation but appeared more as if he was trying to placate her. "I'll let you return to your studying," he said before turning away.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione called after him, causing him to pause and turn back towards her only to see her holding up the match. "We have a match here so why don't you give it a try?"

_I haven't learned anything new_ , he thought to himself but upon seeing the hopeful look upon her face he couldn't just walk away. "Alright, but just once," he told her, stepping back to the table as she set the match down upon it. _This is pointless_ , he thought still not understanding the process involved in transfiguring the match.

"Just relax, Harry," she told him in what she hoped was an encouraging tone. "You already know it can be done because you saw me do it earlier today. All you have to do is believe that you can do it too." Without thinking the witch reached out and gave Harry's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting her hand drop to her side once more.

_Easy for you to say, you're a witch_ , he thought silently but refrained from saying it aloud to her. _What if I'm not a wizard? What if this has all been a mistake? The letter could have been delivered to the wrong address, couldn't it have?_

Harry took a deep breath and tried to still his nervousness as well as his turbulent thoughts which seemed to feed back upon themselves within his head. Glancing up, Hermione gave him a small smile of support. Harry tried to return the smile but all he could muster was a tight curt nod in the girl's direction before he turned his gaze to the match. _Okay…I just have believe that this match is really a pin. Shouldn't be too hard_ , he told himself and nearly cringed at the sarcasm in his own mental musings.

Harry slipped his wand from within his robes as his mind ran rampant with his thoughts. _If I'm not a wizard then what? Would they have to expel me from Hogwarts?_ As Harry thought of that he realized exactly what that would mean. _They would have to send me back…back to the Dursley's!_ The green eyed youth had very little doubt what that would result in. He could already hear Dudley making disparaging comments about how he couldn't even get being a freak right. ' _You worthless freak, Potter!_ ' he heard his cousin's voice clearly in his head. _I'm a wizard! I. am. A. wizard._ , he told himself determinedly as he squared his shoulders and assumed what he thought to be the proper position.

Harry stared down at the match upon the table top and concentrated. _It's a pin_ , he told himself. The boy's hand sent his wand through the required motion as he said it once again. _It's a pin!_ A low rushing sound similar to a stirring breeze gathered force in his head causing him to smile in anticipation of the expected results. _You're a pin_ , he nearly screamed in his head believing the noise he heard to be his magic answering him finally. The sound within his head grew in strength from a small breeze to the flow of rushing water. _I know you're a pin_ , he thought with another flick of his wrist. Before his eyes the match remained a match.

Anger suddenly flared within him like he had never experienced before. All his dreams of a life other than being the punching bag of his uncle and cousin or the slave of his relatives seemed to be slipping through his fingers. The realization that a mistake had assuredly been made when the Hogwarts letter had been delivered to him was the final straw. To have all his dreams and hopes within his grasp, only to see it disappear like smoke upon the breeze was more than his fledgling spirit could withstand.

The rushing water became a raging torrent within his head which grew in volume till it resonated within every fiber of his small being. Harry's entire body tingled as if a current of electricity was coursing through his muscles and very bones. He had heard the soft sound of the initial breeze several times before, the last time being when they had gone to the zoo for Dudley's birthday. Harry recalled that his cousin had pushed him to the ground while he was having a delightful conversation with a Burmese Python raised in captivity. Whereas that sound then had been soft, almost welcoming, this new sound was near deafening to the young wizard. The first cold tendrils of fear crept into his chest and grasped hold of his young heart.

The match, the table and the very library of Hogwarts itself seemed to fade from his view. The-Boy-Who-Lived saw himself within his mind, standing at the foot of a hill that stretched upwards, becoming a towering mountain in his disbelieving eyes. As he stood there, paralyzed with fear, a part of the mountain broke free near the top and started a rather slow and lazy slide downwards gathering momentum as it progressed.

To Harry it was like he stood before a falling avalanche, only he couldn't move from its deadly path. He had time to question exactly why he would want to move. _If I survive they will send me back. Turned out and unwanted yet again_ , he realized, barely managing to hold back a bitter wail of hopelessness behind his quivering lips. He could feel the tears slowly slide down his cheeks yet he made no effort to wipe them away.

The boy who had survived a killing curse realized that he hadn't a reason to continue on. Briefly images of a blonde girl with fetching eyes flashed through his mind followed by a dark skinned boy and a girl with bushy hair and a welcoming smile. Harry quickly dismissed them, realizing that they were not friends. He wasn't worth having friends.

With that knowledge arrived the sudden realization that he had no desire to flee the advancing fate speeding towards him. _Better it take me and be done with it than return to them or continue on as this_ , he reasoned in a resigned tone. Within his mind Harry smiled as he closed his eyes and allowed the avalanche to wash over him and then he knew nothing as a blackness claimed him.

Hermione's first indication that something was amiss was when she noticed her _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ book was gone. Puzzled she took her eyes from the match and looked at the table where the book had been only to see a small silver pin laying there. "Harry you did it!" the young witch exclaimed turning back to the boy excitedly only to see him standing there with his eyes rolled back into his head. Even as the confused witch watched, tears escaped from the boy's eyes to roll slowly down his cheeks. The contrast between the tear and the peaceful smile upon the boy's lips struck her as odd.

The soft sound of small metal objects striking the stone flagstones of the library's floor drew Hermione's attention and caused her eyes to open wide in disbelief as her breath caught in her throat. The book shelves directly behind them were devoid of books, which was surprising in and of itself. What caused her to gasp was the rain of silver pins that were rolling off the shelves and falling to the floor. It was the noise of those pins striking the floor that has drawn her attention away from the boy before her.

"Harry you have to stop it!" Hermione exclaimed turning back towards Harry and grasping his shoulders forcibly while giving him a shake. Her efforts were rewarded by Harry crumplling in her hands, dragging them both to the floor.

Hermione desperately threw her arms around Harry's neck in an attempt to keep him from hitting his head as he fell. The Gryffindor ended up being sprawled across the boy's chest and quickly removed herself from his chest and sat upon her knees beside him instead.

"Harry! Harry!" she screamed loudly while shaking the boy sprawled upon the cold floor.

Yanking her wand from her robe she pointed it in what she hoped was the direction in which the front counter was. " _Lumos Solem_ ," she screamed driven by fear. A bright light shot forth from the tip of her wand and illuminated the great library brighter than any normal sunlight ever could.

Behind her she could hear more and more pins falling to the ground meaning more books had been transfigured. It was only a moment before the sound of running feet reached her.

"Hold on Harry, they're coming," she told the comatose boy next to her as she put her wand away before slipping her hand into his. The dark haired wizard's fingers felt ice cold against her skin as she gave them a gentle squeeze to let him know he wasn't alone.

"Ms. Granger! What is the meaning of this!" exclaimed Irma Pince upon spotting the two of them on the floor behind the study table. The dark haired librarian froze in her tracks as if someone had cast _Petrificus Totalus_ upon her. "Where are all my books!" she nearly shrieked upon seeing the empty shelves behind the girl who was kneeling upon the floor.

"It's Harry," Hermione tried to tell the irate librarian. "Something is wrong with him!"

"There soon will be for what he has done to my books!" Madam Pince proclaimed as she turned towards the two first years with anger clearly in her eyes. "Get up the both of you! We'll see what the Headmaster has to say about this!"

"Ms. Granger, what has happened here?" suddenly asked a stern voice which nearly cause the young witch to sob in relief.

"Professor, it's Harry!" Hermione, clutching the boys hand in both of hers, repeated to her Head of House even as Professor McGonagall hurried over and knelt beside the boy. "He was trying to transfigure the match like I did this morning. Then he went all strange and the books became pins. I grabbed him and he collapsed," she explained fighting to keep the note of hysteria in her voice from growing.

"My books…," bewailed Madam Pince having walked right past the two students to the empty shelves. It was only as she investigated further that she realized the true extent of the horror. Every book within a hundred meters had been turned into pins.

Unable to deal with the loss of her beloved books the librarian collapsed into a nearby chair in a daze.

Professor McGonagall looked at all the pins upon the floor. "Sadly I would say he met with resounding success, Ms. Granger." Minerva looked up just as Professor Dumbledore arrived to assess the situation. "Headmaster," the Head of Gryffindor said with a respectful tilt of her head before informing him what she had been told.

The aged wizard looked down at the table and reaching down lifted the match that lay there, holding it up for his Deputy Headmistress to see. "It would appear young Harry was not successful in his endeavor."

"Headmaster, I'm sorry," Hermione started with only to be gently hushed by a soft gesture from the white bearded wizard.

"Ms. Granger I am certain that it is through no fault of your own that these events played out as they did." The aged Headmaster smiled to the young witch, noting that she still grasped tightly the hand of Harry.

"I just wanted to help him," the young witch exclaimed emotionally, feeling that it was all her fault suddenly. As there were adults present to now handle matters she was finding it more difficult to contain her emotions, namely the fear she had felt since seeing Harry's eyes rolled back into his head.

"He asked for my help," she added in a softer voice as she blinked rapidly to forestall the tears she could feel welling up in her eyes. "I….I just wanted to help…," her words trailed off into a soft whisper as she turned to stare at the Slytherin boy beside her.

"…and rightfully so," Dumbledore said in his best grandfatherly voice to the clearly distraught girl. "Minerva, perhaps it would be best if you saw Ms. Granger back to her House. Madam Pomfrey should be here shortly to look after Harry," he told the Head of Gryffindor making certain that the young bushy haired witch heard that the school nurse would arrive soon.

Hermione reluctantly released the hand in hers and set it down gently on Harry's chest before resting her hand upon it for a long moment. On shaky legs the aspiring young witch stood only to feel the supportive arm of her Head of House slip around her shoulders. Hermione leaned into the elder witch even as the first tear slipped free of her control. Hearing her name she turned and looked back at the scene, biting her lip upon seeing Harry's unmoving body.

"Ms. Granger," the Headmaster called just before Hermione turned to leave down the aisle which led to the main doors of the library. "Ten points to Gryffindor for not losing your head in what must have certainly been a trying ordeal," he told her with a sympathetic smile upon seeing the tears on her cheeks.

It was only a few minutes before Madam Pomfrey, the head of the Hogwarts Hospital wing arrived and got directly to work. She quickly examined Harry for several long moments before she levitated the now unconscious boy off the floor.

"How is he?" Dumbledore enquired of his head of the school's medical staff.

"He appears to be exhausted," Madam Pomfrey stated matter-of-factly. "Whatever happened here it has drained him physically, though not magically. Do we know what caused this, Headmaster?"

"I believe that Ms. Granger was privy to an extraordinary display of accidental magic," Albus replied thoughtfully as if still pondering the matter. "I think perhaps when she grabbed him it was enough of a distraction to break the hold it had over him."

"You think that the magic took control of him?" Poppy asked in a worried tone.

Albus offered a small wistful smile to the nurse. "Alas, we still know so little about accidental magic that it is hard to say. I do know that he did not have control of whatever it was. I do not believe that Harry would do such a thing knowingly." Seeing the confused look upon Poppy's face he quickly explained the fate of the nearby books.

"Ms. Granger is just fortunate that there wasn't a backlash of magic when she grabbed hold him," the aged medical witch said with a slight shake of her head at how lucky the girl had been. "We really should teach these basic procedures and precautions, Headmaster."

"I agree," Dumbledore said as he patted her shoulder sympathetically. "I will bring it before the Board of Governors once again."

The nurse smiled in thanks till her eyes fell upon the near comatose librarian. "I'll prepare a sleeping draught for Irma," she told the Headmaster softly.

Albus Dumbledore glanced over to where the Hogwarts Librarian was seated. "I think that would be for the best. Please let me know if there is any change in Harry's condition through the night." Madam Pomfrey nodded and then walked from the library with the floating body of The-Boy-Who-Lived beside her.


	5. Of Pins & Friends

Draco Malfoy realized that the start of his school year was not going as he had planned as he stormed into the boy's dormitory. The Malfoy scion threw himself down upon his bed, clasping his hands behind his head and crossing his feet angrily. His grey eyes took on a smoldering glare as if he would burn a hole through the canopy above him.

"How dare she spurn me in such a manner," he fumed aloud as Crabbe and Goyle took seats on the bed next to his, neither particularly wanting to be there right at that moment. "In front of everyone, no less," the affronted blonde boy groused. His closest two supporters could do little more than look at each other before turning back to the scion they had been instructed by their fathers to support in any manner they could.

"She puts on airs and acts as if she is better than the rest of us…better than _ME_!" Draco argued as he lunged to his feet from his reclined position, too upset to remain motionless, and started pacing back and forth as he continued his one sided rant. "Once Father has spoken to her parents and she is mine I'll be sure to show her just how much better she isn't," he added with a sneer that caused the other two present to grin. "She'll come to regret the day she chose to ignore me!"

"Do you want us to, you know," Crabbe started, with a knowing grin to his partner Goyle next to him, "have a talk with her?" he asked suggestively as he turned back to look at the leader of their group for directions. "Just say the word and we'll make certain she knows her place." There was nothing Vincent Crabbe enjoyed more than exerting his larger size on those smaller and weaker than himself. What the youngest Crabbe lacked in brains he made up for in brawn. It was only their first day at school and he had already earned a name for himself and not a good one.

Draco paused to regard his two bodyguards as he weighed his option concerning the irksome Greengrass girl. "No," he replied rather slowly, ignoring the crest fallen look that appeared on the other two's faces. "This has to be handled delicately for the time being. I think I shall listen to my Father for now and let him handle matters on his end," he told them. "If I were to do something that jeopardized his efforts I would never hear the end of it," he said to them. "It would be just like her, the little Princess, to go running to her daddy too!" The last thing he wished was for the head of the Greengrass family to have to speak with his father concerning his actions at school.

"Just because she can turn a stupid match into a pin doesn't mean anything," he offered as he started pacing again. Though he might not want to admit it he was rather upset that he had only managed to transfigure only half of the match himself. "What good does it do to transfigure a match anyway? If I need a pin I can send our house elf, after a good swift kick, to fetch me one," he added in a mocking tone to further belittle her accomplishment. "There will never be a time when I will need to make a pin. It just goes to show you how far the standards here at Hogwarts have fallen," he finished with a sickening sneer of contempt.

"Well it's not like Greengrass was the only one to do it," Gregory Goyle offered up with a slight chuckle trying to mollify the blonde boy. "That Granger girl did it also so she's not that special. They must have just gotten lucky is all."

Draco stopped in his tracks as a look of disgust appeared upon his face. "How did that filthy Mudblood manage that?" he questioned sourly. "She should be little better than a squib by all rights, growing up with those filthy Muggles." The fact that someone who held no knowledge of magic at all till they received their Hogwarts letter could outperform him did not sit well with the spoiled Malfoy heir.

"Potter didn't even manage to transfigure his at all," Crabbe added with a grin in the hopes of pleasing Draco further.

"Speaking of The-Boy-Who-Lived," Draco said as an evil grin crept across his face, "did you two get the items I asked you to?"

Both boys nodded with matching mischievous grins upon their faces. "Ready when you are," Goyle told the standing boy with a hopeful look. Gregory Goyle enjoyed misfortune, so long as it was someone else's and not his own. Even better, to his way of thinking, if he was the cause of that misfortune.

Draco did a quick survey of the room, determining that they were the only ones currently present at the moment. "Quickly," he told them, "go fetch them before someone comes and sees us." As the two large boys hurried off Draco walked over to the bed that was assigning to The-Boy-Who-Lived and pulled back the covers.

The two boys returned, each carrying a bucket in one hand. "Here," Crabbe said, holding out a bucket of dirt to Draco like he was offering a gift. The large boy was certain that their leader would want to be the one to do the deed.

Draco eyed the bucket as if it was infested with some disease which he would contract should he touch it. "What? You don't expect me to get my hands filthy do you?" he asked with a trace of sarcasm in his tone. The blonde youth also didn't want to touch the thing in case there was a magical means by which it could be determine who handled the item. _Better to be safe than sorry_ , he reasoned. _Why do it yourself when you can get some other sod to do it for you_? Draco thought in true Slytherin form.

"No, you should be fine, the dirt's in the bucket after all," Crabbe replied a bit confused, missing the veiled meaning to the other boys words. "I don't think you'll get any dirt on you."

"Just pour it on his bed," Draco snapped, causing the other boy to flinch away from him before emptying the bucket of dirt on the bedding as instructed. "Now you," Draco said with of a flick of his chin towards Goyle.

Gregory Goyle didn't need to be told twice and quickly lifted the bucket of water he was holding and poured it over the spilled dirt. The water, mixing with the previously added dirt, quickly turned to mud and saturated the sheets, seeping down into the mattress as they watched.

Draco looked down at the sodden mess they had made of the boys bed with a satisfied grin. "Good one, Goyle," he said with a pleased nod of his head. The other two grinned like puppy dogs being petted, at the praise from their leader. "Now hide those buckets in the broom cupboard so no one will be the wiser," he instructed them.

Draco pulled the covers back up on Potter's bed and tried to arrange it back into the manner it was before he had disturbed it. In a moment Crabbe and Goyle returned from hiding the buckets. "Come on," he instructed them, "we'd best leave so others won't suspect it is us."

The other two boys nodded in agreement, silly grins plastered on their faces as they walked towards the doorway to the dormitory. "You're certain Potter didn't transfigure his match at all?" Draco asked Crabbe who simply nodded in confirmation. Draco grinned at this small bit of news. "Well I guess Potter isn't such a great wizard after all!"

The three boys walked back into the common room only to find it in an uproar. "Oi, Nott," Draco called out to a fellow first year that he was planning to recruit into his group, "what's all the ruckus?" he asked as he glanced about at all the students talking excitedly.

Theodore Nott turned with wide eyes towards the three of them upon hearing his name called. "You're not going to believe this, mate," he stammered. "Harry Potter just turned every book in the library into pins!"

"Bloody Hell!" Draco exclaimed. No, this term was not starting off how the young Malfoy heir had envisioned it at all.

**-oOo-**

Daphne Greengrass sighed and waited impatiently for the marble stairway to swing back to the proper landing. _This is a magical school_ , she mused silently, _one would think they would have a more efficient means of travel between the floors than these stairways_. The young blonde had at first, as with all new first years, found the moving staircases to be enchanting. That was until she was in a hurry and realized just how much time was spent waiting on them to align themselves properly so you could get to where you needed to be.

Seeing the next set of stairs snap into place she quickly dashed up them to the landing and turned, starting up the next set of stairs only to have them suddenly move, shifting her from her desired course. There was nothing to do but wait for them to swing back to the prior location she realized, as she leaned frustrated against the decorative railing. The delay only gave her time to think about the events that had driven her from the study table she had been sharing with Tracey.

_That miserable little prat!_ she growled mentally, recalling Malfoy and his behavior within the commons room of Slytherin. _Why can't he understand that I want nothing to do with him?_ she pondered as the stairway snapped into place pointing in the wrong direction. _I don't know what game he's about but I certainly do not plan on playing_ , she affirmed silently. _Hopefully he'll grow tired of it and find someone else to bother_. Daphne frowned, suddenly feeling sorry for whoever the new target of the Malfoy attention would be.

The stairs moved once more and swung back to the proper location she needed. A few quick steps followed by a short hop and she was on the third floor walking down the left corridor. Her blue eyes glanced to the distant side and the right hand corridor, wondering what could be there that would bring a most ' _gruesome death_ ' as the headmaster had stated at the start of term feast. _Why would they have something of that nature in a school full of children?_ _Even worse, why tell us about it_ , she thought with a smirk knowing that it would just make some students all the more curious.

The first year Slytherin, engrossed in these thoughts, approached the main entrance to the library and had just reached out for the door when it was pulled open from within. Daphne quickly stepped to the side, not wanting to run into whoever was leaving. The last thing she expected to see was the school nurse followed by the floating unconscious body of Harry Potter. Before she could stop herself a gasp escaped her lips.

Madam Pomfrey paused, turned upon hearing the gasp near at hand. "The library is closed," the healing witch told the girl she saw standing next to the door. "You'll have to return to your common room to do your studying tonight."

Daphne chewed the inside of her lip for a moment, a look of disappointment upon her features. "Is there no place else I can go?" she enquired. "I just left there and I don't think I'll be getting much of anything done should I return." Daphne's blue eyes darted to the floating boy for a second and she had to fight back the loads of questions that threatened to jump out of her mouth.

Poppy Pomfrey had been a nurse at Hogwarts for a long time and had become, over the years, an expert at reading the students under her care. Poppy arched a brow slightly, "One of the boys in your house having a go at you?" Daphne looked down and nodded slightly, embarrassed to have to admit it. "All you need is a quiet place to study?" the aged nurse enquired to which the first year student nodded once again, glancing up with a hopeful look. "Very well Ms. Greengrass, follow me." Having said this, the nurse promptly turned and strolled off down the corridor heading back towards the great staircase.

Daphne couldn't believe her luck and quickly fell into step with the school nurse. "Umm Professor….," Daphne started with after a few feet but then paused, not knowing the woman's name.

"I am not a professor, so you needn't address me as such. Madam Pomfrey should do nicely," she told the girl walking next to her with a small smile. The petite girl reminded her of another student from several years back.

"Madam Pomfrey," Daphne said, getting a feel for the name as it rolled off her tongue, "I couldn't help but notice you called me by my name, even though I never told you it. I was wondering how you knew who I was."

"You have the look of your mother `bout you. As pretty as they come she was," the school nurse replied causing the young girl to smile and blush demurely. "But it was your eyes that gave it away," Poppy continued with as they approached the stairs and made their way to the fourth floor and the infirmary. "You've your father's eyes, child," the nurse told her with a softer smile. "I suspect this isn't the first time a boy has been set on garnishing your attention, nor will it be the last I'll wager."

Daphne could do little more than shake her head, unable to refute the nurse's claims. Being the eldest daughter of a pureblood family as well as having her mother's good looks and fathers piercing blue eyes was too tempting a package for most other families to pass up. She hoped that when her marriage contract came that at least it would be to someone she could tolerate. _If it is a marriage for political or social standing then perhaps Tori can marry for love and know happiness_. This was her fervent hope.

They walked in silence down the hospital wing corridor till they reached the main doors and paused. Daphne, hearing something thud against the floor behind them turned and looked down only to spot an apple rolling wobbly about on the stone flooring beneath the Potter boy. _It must have fallen out of his robes_ , she reasoned upon seeing one side of the boy's robes now trailing on the ground. Without thinking about it the petite girl stooped down and retrieved the apple while at the same time flipping the trailing robes over the floating boy's legs. Standing back up she followed behind the nurse and floating boy into the infirmary to a bed at the far end of the room.

Madam Pomfrey made certain the unconscious boy was situated correctly on the hospital bed before turning to the girl with her who she noticed was staring at the boy on the bed. "He's in your House is he not, Ms. Greengrass?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Daphne replied taking her eyes off of Harry and looking towards the speaking woman as was polite. "We spoke some on the train ride here. He was very nice and helped me with…something," she explained vaguely, not really wanting to explain everything to the adult before her in case it would get them in trouble for being atop the train. "Will he be alright?" Daphne asked with a genuine note of concern in her voice.

Poppy sighed as she placed a hand upon the girl's back and used it to steer her out of the area and towards her own office. The aged witch knew there was more to the girl's words than she was telling but she well recognized a change in subject when she heard it and decided not to pursue the matter. _Best to deal with the issue at hand rather than find new ones_ , she reasoned. "A good night's rest and Mr. Potter will be back on his feet," she assured the girl with her as they entered the Nurse's office. "Have a seat at the desk there and you can do your classwork while I tend to Mr. Potter and make him comfortable," she instructed. "When you return to your House I will have a note for you to give to your Prefect as the boy will be spending the night here."

"Thank you," Daphne said with a small smile as she seated herself and started setting out her books and supplies after setting the apple to one side.

"Yes, well…should you find yourself in need of a place which is a bit more…," Poppy paused as she looked for the correct term, "secluded, than the library, you may come here," she told the first year student. Truth be told the older nurse would be glad for the company.

"Thank you, Ma`am," Daphne said, looking up with a smile. "I think I would like that," she replied before opening her book and burying her nose in it.

_So like her mother, Abigail_ , Poppy thought as she watched the girl start on her school work. The Head nurse of Hogwarts recalled fondly Abigail Smith, who used to come and help her in the infirmary when she didn't have anything else to do. _I always thought she would go into the medical field_ , Poppy mused with a slight shake of her head as she turned and left the office, closing the door most of the way behind her.

Daphne glanced up as the nurse left before returning to the potions book in front of her and starting to read. Tomorrows classes were Charms in the morning and potions in the afternoon. Having already read over the chapter for charms which explained the levitation spell they would be attempting, she had decided to focus on the first chapter of the potions book. It was some time before movement past the partially opened door drew her attention and she heard Madam Pomfrey speaking with the Headmaster.

**-oOo-**

Albus Dumbledore glanced about to ensure no one was near before removing his half-moon glasses and massaging the bridge of his nose between his eyes as he strode down the corridor leading to the infirmary. _Even with Minerva and Severus assisting it will take several days to untransfigure all the books_ , he mused as he hurried along. "Most remarkable," he mumbled aloud under his breath as he thought about what Harry had done. As the years stretched out behind him he had taken to speaking to himself more and more often.

The elderly wizard knew that they couldn't untransfigure them all at once for fear of damaging the books. _Not to mention the enormous amount of magical energy that would require_ , he reminded himself as he slipped his glasses back on. While the spell Harry had used was the simplest and most basic of transfiguration spells, requiring a very small amount of power, the same could not be said for returning them to their natural state. Any untransfiguration spell required a considerable amount of skill and power which is why it wasn't taught till the NEWT level classes in seventh year.

When it came to transfiguration it was simple for the person who performed the transfiguration to reverse it. However for another witch or wizard to undo a transfiguration they had to not only contend with the object's belief in what it was but also the original caster's belief in the form it currently held. In this case it was Harry's belief or that of his wild magic, that all the pins were in fact pins and not the books they should be. The caster's belief was imprinted on the object at the time of transfiguration and was what allowed the object to retain that shape indefinitely moving forward.

Albus smiled wistfully to himself as he recalled his days as the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts and how he would explain it to his classes. ' _Think of Transfiguration as rolling a boulder down a steep hill. With a large enough push the transfiguration will gather speed and nearly complete itself. Now if you had to then roll that same boulder back up that steep hill that would be Untransfiguration. A hard and most difficult task if you were not the one to do the initial transfiguration.'_

While the aged Headmaster enjoyed running Hogwarts and overseeing the education of all the young witches and wizards under his care, there were times when he missed the simpler times of when he was just a Professor and taught his own class. "Alas, we must all play our part," he softly said to himself as he opened the doors to the infirmary and strode down the aisle way.

"Good evening, Madam Pomfrey," Albus said with a warm smile towards the head nurse who moved to intercept him. "I trust your young charge is well and recovering nicely?" The Headmaster paused as he saw the head of the Hogwarts hospital pause and glance through the office door which was slightly ajar.

Poppy, satisfied that the first year had her nose buried in the book before her on the desk, continued the few feet to the waiting wizard. "Headmaster," Poppy offered with a respectful tilt of her head. Noticing the glance towards the Nurse's office and arched brow, she explained. "Ms. Greengrass was looking for a quiet place to study and as the library was closed I offered to let her use my office for the time being."

"I see," Albus replied, realizing there was more to it than that but willing to let the matter go. He had learned long ago not to question his staff on the smaller details and hence allowed them plenty of leeway to manage affairs as they saw fit. "I received your message that you wished to speak with me concerning young Harry?" The Headmaster looked more closely at his head nurse only then noting that she was clearly upset as well as barely containing her anger. "Perhaps if you start with what his condition is?" he prompted gently.

"Mr. Potter, other than suffering from exhaustion from today's accident should make a full recovery to the condition he was in prior to the incident," she told the Headmaster in a strained tone of voice.

"I fear it is not his current condition which you wished to speak with me about then," Albus said with a patient smile on his face knowing she would get to the reason for summoning him in her own time and manner.

Madam Pomfrey wrung her hands before her while she gathered her thoughts. "It's criminal," she finally managed to get out past the lump of anger burning in her chest. Being a nurse for many years she was no stranger to the cruelties that could be inflicted upon a person. The Wizarding world, being what it was, ensured that the head of a house was near onto the law themselves within their respective households. She had seen numerous cases where wives were abused with no recourse to protection as they were bound by marriage contract.

_If only the abuse was limited to there_ , she growled silently. The senior Nurse took great pride and comfort in protecting as well as healing the children left under her care. Nothing angered her more than seeing cases of child abuse as she knew there was nothing she could do save patch them up, send them home, and hope it didn't happen again.

"I did a full scan as this is the first time Mr. Potter has been in my care. Standard procedure," she assured him. "He is severely malnourished and has been for some time I fear. It is most noticeable in his joint, primarily his knees and elbows. If I had to guess I would have to say that he's been under fed his entire life."

Albus only barely managed to school his features to not betray his surprise at this news. It was clear to him that the Nurse was worked up over the matter, which he could understand. "Are you certain of this, Madam Pomfrey?" he enquired. _How could this have happened?_ _He was with his family who should have loved and cared for him like their own._

Poppy shook her head sharply as she replied, "There can be no doubt, Headmaster. It would also account for him being undersize for a boy his age," she went on to explain only to suddenly pause to gather herself. "There's more," she said softly, her voice dropping.

"More?" Albus asked in disbelief. In all the years he'd been at Hogwarts he had never seen his Nurse this shook up before. The Headmaster's blue eyes suddenly looked old and tired as they glance towards the screened off area where the boy who was Britain's only hope against the Dark Lord named Voldemort rested. If their only hope had been damaged to the point that he could no longer save them that would spell dire times ahead for all of Britain.

"I hardly know where to begin," Poppy admitted with a shuddering breath. The head nurse started listing healed broken bones, contusions and lacerations that were spread across the young boy's body from head to toe. As she listed each injury the Headmaster slowly grew paler. "There can be no doubt that he was beaten and often over the course of his young life," Poppy said with a mixture of sadness and anger. "What has been done to him is nothing short of criminal, Headmaster!"

"He has a healed crack in the upper side of his skull that may very well account for the glasses he has to wear," she told the elder wizard as if to prove her point. "The injury caused swelling which affected his optical nerves resulting in the damage to his eyesight. Sadly, as it has already healed it is irreversible at this point. I seem to recall his father had glasses for reading mostly but nothing else." Pomfrey sighed softly truly feeling for the mistreated child.

"What can we do for him to repair the other aliments?" Albus asked, hopeful that there was something they could do for the lad.

Poppy paused and thought for several long moments before giving an answer. "I can help with some of the issues, Headmaster. Though natural growth, as opposed to magically assisted, is the best method, I think I can combine the two of them. It won't be easy," she admitted, looking towards the screened off area. "It will likely be painful as well due to growing out his existing bones to their proper size and density."

"What of the other injuries?" the Headmaster asked, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly guilty for leaving the poor boy with his Muggle relatives.

"The injuries that are already healed there is little I can do for them I fear. Bones that have broken and then mended are better left as is rather than breaking them again and setting them. For the most part they healed straight and we'll have to hope that they grow out with the rest of him." Poppy turned back to look at the man with her only to see him appear as if he had aged fifty years in but a few moments. "He's young and so will not notice them for now, however when he is older he will no doubt come to hate the winter months and the aches and pains the cold will bring."

Albus thought for several moments before reaching his decision. _The needs of the greater good must be met_ ; he tried to assure himself, _even if that means further pain to the young boy_. The thought of the pain Harry would have to endure did not sit well with the elderly wizard but he saw no other recourse. "Pomfrey, do what you can for him. How long will the treatments take?"

"I should like to see him three times a week for an evening," she replied after careful contemplating. "I think the first month he will need to spend those visits overnight here in one of my beds till I am certain how he will react to it. If everything goes well he should be better off by the end of the school year however he may never get to where he would have matured to naturally."

"Very well," Albus said in a tired voice. "I will speak with Severus concerning Harry's treatment. I would prefer no one else know of his condition or his treatment," the Headmaster told her. "For now we will just say that he is undergoing treatment due to the accidental magic which transpired in the library."

Pomfrey nodded, deciding to leave such matters to the wiser and more experienced Headmaster which would allow her to focus on her patient. "I should be able to start by Thursday. I would like to allow him tomorrow and the day after to make certain he is well rested."

"Then I shall take my leave, Madam Pomfrey," Albus said with a slight nod of his head before leaving the hospital wing.

**-oOo-**

Daphne sat and stared at the page of the potions book before her, too stunned by what she had overheard to even focus on her school work. ' _He was beaten and often over the course of his life_ ' Madam Pomfrey's words kept echoing in her head no matter how hard she tried to stop them. Not for the first time was the Slytherin girl glad for the kind and loving parents she and her sister had.

_How? How could such a thing happen?_ she wondered. _How could no one have known? He's Harry Potter! The-Boy-Who-Lived! Loved and cherished hero of Magical Britain! Who would do such a thing?_ Daphne's young mind bulked at the possibility of the boy who had helped her atop the train car being beaten like some stray unwanted animal. Just the thought of it had her rapidly blinking back tears that threatened to leak from her eyes.

"Ms. Greengrass!" exclaimed a stern and commanding voice next to her suddenly, startling the blonde girl. Poppy smiled slightly at the dazed expression on the girl's face and how she was rapidly blinking to restore fluid to her eyes apparently. "My word, I had to call you three times before you heard me. I know that potions must be a fascinating subject but do try to blink more often or you shall injure your eyes," she told the girl. "It is near curfew time so you should head back to your house."

Daphne merely nodded, finding herself unable to speak past the emotional lump in her throat at the moment.

Mistaking the young girl's silence for fear of walking back to her House alone the head nurse spoke up sympathetically. "I need to get a few potions from the back but if you wish to wait I will escort you back to your House's common room." Poppy watched as the girl nodded eagerly to her offer. "Very well, I shall return shortly. Please wait here for me once you have your books packed up." Turning away the Nurse disappeared through another door which Daphne assumed led to some storage room or other.

The elder Greengrass girl soon had her school materials packed away only to notice the apple sitting upon the desk where she had left it. Grasping hold of it she set her bag down and walked out of the office and to the screened off area where Harry lay tucked into bed. Peeking around the screening she spied the sleeping boy lying under the covers. A quietly as possible she stepped to the side of his bed.

Daphne quickly noticed that Harry's clothes had been replaced with a type of hospital pajamas that were plain white in color but looked comfortable enough. She couldn't help herself when her blue eyes looked to his head as if she would be able to see the healed fracture there that had damaged the boy's eyesight. Quickly feeling ashamed of herself for doing so she hastily looked away only to have her gaze snared by the lightning bolt scar upon his brow. Before she was aware of her actions she reached out with her index finger and lightly traced the scar. Harry seemed to sigh softly at her touch or so it appeared to her, bringing a slight smile to her face.

"You dropped something on the way in," she told him softly as she held up the apple so he could see it, as if he was awake. "I thought about leaving it in Madam Pomfrey's office but figured you might be hungry when you wake up as you weren't at dinner tonight," she continued with her one sided conversation. "I'll set it right here," she told the sleeping boy as she placed the apple next to Harry's glasses on the table next to the bed. "Just don't try to put it on instead of your glasses, alright?"

Lying on the bed Harry groaned and moved about somewhat.

"I know, terrible time to make a joke and all," Daphne offered nervously as the boy groaned once again but louder than before and began the thrash about with greater strength. "Harry? Harry?" Daphne asked as she laid a hand on his shoulder and shook it slightly as if trying to wake him. "Are you alright?" Harry's head began to jerk back and forth as if he was in the throes of a terrible nightmare. "MADAM POMFREY!" Daphne yelled fearful she had unknowingly done something to further injure the comatose boy on the bed.

"Ms. Greengrass hold your voice down!" the nurse admonished the young girl sternly upon stepping out of the office and looking about for the missing girl that had called to her.

"It's Harry," Daphne exclaimed with a note of panic in her voice as Harry's arms began waving about in front of him as if he was trying to ward off someone attacking him. "I think something is wrong with him!"

Madam Pomfrey hurried over, wand in hand and started her diagnosis. Daphne, uncertain of what to do reached out and clasped one of Harry's hands in hers causing a startling reaction. The-Boy-Who-Lived suddenly stilled and gave forth a contented sigh before settling down and lying still once more. A moment later Daphne saw his eyes flutter open and twin emerald orbs came to focus on her.

"D…Daphne?" Harry mumbled in a confused and only slightly coherent tone of voice.

"Mr. Potter I need you to drink this," Poppy said as she tilted the boys head up and poured the contents of a small blue vial into his mouth. The nurse smiled as she watched her patient swallow the potion. She had learned early in her career that if the patient was dazed it was the easiest time to get them to take whatever medicine you needed them to ingest.

"W…where am I?" Harry asked even as his eyes began to droop closed.

"You're safe in the infirmary," Daphne tried to tell him only to see he was already fast asleep.

"Dreamless slumber draught," Poppy said upon seeing the questioning look from Daphne. "It was just a bit of a dream. He should be fine now," she reassured the younger girl with a warm smile and a pointed look to where Harry's hand was being held by both of Daphne's now.

Daphne followed the nurse's look only to see that she was grasping Harry's hand without recalling how it had come to be in hers in the first place. The warmth of his hand in hers recalled the time he had helped her up the ladder and how warm his fingers had felt then when they touched hers. As gently as possible, with a growing blush in her cheeks, she laid Harry's hand upon his chest patting it once before withdrawing her hand.

"You may have a healer's touch, Ms. Greengrass," Madam Pomfrey said to her in a serious tone to indicate she was not making fun of her. "Your mother was the same," the nurse confided. "Shall we go?" Poppy enquired after a moment. Daphne nodded and went to retrieve her back where she had left it in the office. Upon returning with it, she and the medical nurse made their way down to the Dungeons.

**-oOo-**

Harry slowly awoke and quickly swallowed in an attempt to remove the near sickeningly sweet taste in his mouth. Reaching to the table next to his bed, purely out of habit, he managed to find his glasses after nearly knocking the apple there onto the floor. As he slipped on the spectacles the first thing he saw were a pair of crystal blue eyes which rested above a pair of half-moon glasses and a bemused smile regarding him. "Headmaster?" Harry intoned both confused and disoriented upon not recognizing where he was. The last memory his fuzzy mind recalled was being in the library with the Granger girl.

"How are you, Harry," Albus asked, concern evident in his tone and features. While to the naked eye the boy appeared whole and healthy, he had received last night the sad truth of the matter from Madam Pomfrey.

"Confused," Harry replied honestly, drawing a soft chuckle from the wizard seated next to his bed. The-Boy-Who-Lived glanced about and suddenly realized he wasn't wearing his school uniform. Harry looked up with a questioning expression even as one hand absently rubbed at the hospital pajamas he wore currently.

"I would imagine so my dear boy," the Headmaster said in agreement. "You are in the hospital wing here at Hogwarts. You gave us quite the scare last night. A very lively start to the term." The elderly wizard's eyes sparkled merrily, "Though I dare say Madam Pince is none too happy with you at the moment."

"I'm sorry, Sir," Harry stammered as he sat up in bed. "I don't recall much of the previous evening." His eyes gave himself a once over, finding no bandages, before looking to the side and seeing the apple on the table next to his wand.

Albus raised a weathered hand and motioned for the young boy to relax. "Fear not young Harry. This is not the first case of accidental magic we've seen here over the long history of this school," he assured the boy before him. "In my third year of teaching Transfiguration here at Hogwarts I had a student who grew increasingly frustrated before accidently turning my desk into a rather large porcupine." The Headmaster winced at the memory. "Alas I was seated upon it at the time. The poor creature was less than pleased with me when I landed atop of it. It was three days before I could sit without a pillow beneath me," he told Harry with an uncomfortable squirm in his seat at the memory of the incident.

Harry couldn't help but grin at the image the Headmaster's story conjured up in his mind. "Is that what happened yesterday, Sir? Accidental magic?"

Albus was pleased to see the boy smile which was the reason for his recanting of that story in the first place. "Yes, that was all it was, Harry. As no one was," the wizard paused for a moment and shifted in his chair once again, "stuck or injured, there's no harm done."

"Sir," Harry opened with, both curious as well as fearful of the answer to the question he was about to ask, "what exactly did I do yesterday?"

"What do you recall?" the Headmaster countered with curious as to just what the boy remembered.

Harry's eyes dropped to his lap as he thought back to the library the previous evening. "I was trying to figure out the formula for Transfiguration. I had discussed it with Hermione Granger who had completed the spell in class. She let me borrow her match to attempt it myself after we had talked for a while." Harry chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. "I…I think I was angry or maybe frustrated because I couldn't transfigure the match to a pin," he confessed thoughtfully. "Everything is kind of hazy after that," he finished with a slight shrug, looking once more to the Headmaster.

Albus held up his hand for the boy to see, pinched between his thumb and forefinger was a single silver pin. "While you may not have transfigured Ms. Granger's match, you did however manage to reduce several rows of books to these," he told Harry indicating the pin in his hand.

Harry's eyes bulged in disbelief as he heard the Headmasters words and stared at the silver pin in the wizard's hand. "I…I did that?" Harry stammered after quickly swallowing to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. Harry all too clearly recalled the sign at the front desk of the library and shuddered to think what Madam Pince would do to him. His next thought, though, had him far more scared than any punishment the librarian could dish out. "Sir….am I to be expelled now?" The fear of returning to the Dursleys nearly had him quaking where he sat.

Albus smiled in his most comforting and grandfatherly manner upon hearing the note of growing panic in the boy's question. "Fear not, young Harry," he said even as he raised his other hand and passed it over the pin. "That which is done can also be undone," he stated as the pin in his hand shimmered and transfigured into a dark-brown leather bound book. Albus continued to smile as he offered the restored book to the boy.

Harry slowly reached out and accepted the book before he glanced down at the title upon its front cover. _Understanding Accidental Magic, Third Edition_ by J.K. Rowling, he read silently to himself. Harry looked up with a crooked grin. "May I borrow this, Sir?"

"Yes, though I feel it would be best if it were I that informed Madam Pince of the loan of this book," Albus said with his eyes twinkling merrily.

Harry grinned and nodded enthusiastically as he held the book to his chest. _I did it! I'm really a wizard_ , he shouted within his mind at the realization of what he had done. _I was able to cast a spell…even if by accident!_ The tendrils of fear and doubt he had felt about being a wizardly slowly loosened their grasp upon his heart.

"Madam Pomfrey has asked that she continue to see you throughout the year," the Headmaster said, drawing the jubilant boy's attention back to himself. "There is a treatment she would like to start in a few days that may help you with control of your magic," he said. "I wouldn't expect results instantly," he added seeing the hopeful look upon the young boys face. "There may even be a measure of pain involved in it as your body adjusts to the changes."

Harry sat and thought upon the Headmasters words, the aged wizard being more than happy to allow him time to think things over. "Sir, is what I did dangerous?" Harry softly asked, suddenly serious and worried that someone could be injured or worse do to his actions. "Could I have hurt someone last night?"

The Headmaster sat back in his chair for a moment, the twinkle gone from his eyes, as he pondered just how much he could tell the boy before to him. "Hogwarts is a school for teaching magic, Harry. We know that there will be the occasional accidents that take place despite the best safeguards we put in place. Accidental magic is really uncontrolled magic. Who can say what it will do?" the Headmaster posed to the boy.

Harry felt a shiver of fear traverse his spin. "So then I could have hurt someone or my magic could have?"

"Again, who is to say, Harry," Albus told him in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "You're here to learn how to control your magic and use it properly, just as the Professors are here to assist you with that endeavor."

"I understand," Harry said with a sense of purpose. "I'll do the treatment Madam Pomfrey advised if you feel it will help me prevent what happened yesterday from happening again, Sir."

"I am truly sorry to ask it of you, Harry, however I feel it is for the best." The Headmaster got to his feet in a surprisingly fluid motion for one of his advanced age. "Now if you will excuse me I have matters to attend to and I believe you have a visitor," he informed Harry of with his customary twinkle returning to his crystal blue eyes once more before he turned and strolled away.

**-oOo-**

Hermione Granger frowned at her reflection in the mirror. The young witch had awakened early and quickly prepared for the day. After taking a shower she dried her hair and got dressed. The reason for her current frown was the same as it was every other morning, her hair.

It wasn't that she didn't like her hair. On the contrary, she loved it. It had taken her some time to grow it out to the length it was now after that fateful day over three years ago when her mother had thought she would look better with short hair. Her classmates hadn't wasted any time in adding calling her a boy to the list of names they had for her. Hermione suppressed a shudder at the painful memory.

Now, with her hair well past her shoulder she truly loved it. What she didn't love though was that as its length increased so too did the bushiness of her brown strands. It seemed to her that the two were proportionally linked in some manner. While at home she had products her mother had bought her to manage it, however when packing her trunk she had opted to leave the products at home to make more room for books, a fact she was now regretting.

With a final toss of her hair, and a resigned sigh due to its condition, the young witch returned to her bed and shouldered her school bag with today's class books as well as several for light reading when the opportunity presented itself. _It never hurts to have a book to read on hand_ , she reasoned to herself. There was no one in the common room as she descended the stairs from the dormitory and slipped out the passageway.

The young Gryffindor had spent a restless night, worried about Harry and the events in the library. Try as she might she couldn't help but feel responsible for what happened. _It was my match and I was the one that encouraged him to try right there in the library!_ Within her heart Hermione knew that she had pushed the matter because she hadn't wanted Harry to walk away yet.

It wasn't often that she found someone she could speak to, yet here he had actually sought her out and asked for her help. Having seen him seated at the table across the way reading through books she had felt a kindred spirit in him which is why she hadn't wanted him to leave. _If I had just left well enough alone he wouldn't have hurt himself_. Her thoughts had led her to the decision to go and visit him in the morning.

The great hall of Hogwarts only had a handful of students in it when she arrived. The only Gryffindor's present were a three seventh years who were seated at the end of the table closest to the entry way. None of them bothered to look in her direction as she passed them moving down to where the first year student usually sat.

As soon as Hermione seated herself in what had become her usual place, food started to appear around her. The young witch quickly spooned some eggs onto her plate before take the top two pieces of toast from a large stack near at hand. Reaching into her bag she slipped out her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells_ by Miranda Goshawk and propped it open and began reading as she ate. The bushy-haired witch was looking forward to her first Charms class with Professor Flitwick.

Once her food was finished, with an audible groan she reluctantly closed the text book, returning it to her bag. Before rising though she reached over and freed an apple from the nearby bowl of assorted fruit. A small smile appeared on her face as another apple appeared in the bowl to take the place of the one she removed. _Magic is so wonderful_ , she thought appreciatively.

Shouldering her heavy school bag, the young Gryffindor quickly left the great hall and returned to the Grande stairway. A few minutes and several shifting flights of stairs later Hermione arrived at her destination, and gently pushed open the door to the Hogwarts Hospital wing. The young first year student froze in place after taking several steps within the room as she saw the Headmaster walking towards her with kind smile upon his lips.

"No too long, Ms. Granger," he said to her, his crystal blue eyes twinkling merrily at the look upon her face. _She reminds me of the time I caught Hagrid with his hand in the cookie jar_ , Albus mused only to recall they had to eventually break the jar to get the stuck appendage out of it. "Harry still needs to get ready for classes," he added as he continued on past her and left the hospital wing with a decidedly lighter bounce to his step than when he had arrived.

Hermione could do little more than nod mutely as she turned and watched the head of the school leave. _It's almost like he knew I was coming to see Harry_. The young witch shook such thoughts from her head believing them to be nothing more than utter nonsense on her part. _There's no way he could know such a thing? Could he?_

Making her way quietly to the screened off bed she looked in and saw Harry lying on his back apparently asleep. A quick summary glance about the space showed her the boy's wand on the table as well as an apple, which brought a soft smile to her lips even as her grip upon the apple in her hand tightened. "Harry?" she whispered softly, fearful of waking him yet honestly concerned about him and wanting to speak with him about yesterday.

Harry's head rolled to the side, his emerald eyes landing upon her from behind his round lensed glasses. The boy's eyes widened slightly upon realizing who was there to see him. "Hermione!" he exclaimed lunging to a sitting position quick enough to startle the young witch.

"I'm glad to see you too, Harry," Hermione said with her heart pounding loudly in her chest from the fright his abrupt reaction had caused. "Is it alright for you to be jumping about like that?" she asked with a touch of concern in her voice.

"I'm sorry," he replied apologetically for having given her a scare without meaning to. "Are you alright? I didn't hurt you last night did I?" he asked in a rush, fearful that he had in some way and the Headmaster hadn't wanted to tell him about it.

"No, I'm fine, Harry," she told him as she walked over and seated herself in the same chair the Headmaster had just vacated moments before. "Why would you ask something like that? I should be asking you how you're feeling."

Harry's eyes gave the witch a slow once over to ensure that there were no injuries before he let out the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding. "No…no reason," he finally replied dismissively as he dropped his gaze to his lap to avoid meeting her eyes. His aunt had always told him that she could tell when he was lying to her by looking in his eyes. He didn't want to give the girl seated next to him that chance.

"At least you can get some reading done," Hermione said into the silence that followed his words, as she leaned over and lifted the book that was lying on the table next to Harry's bed. "Understanding Accidental Magic," she read the title on the front cover aloud. "Is that what happened last night?" Hermione inquired with a slightly arched brow.

Harry simply nodded, fearful she would figure out just how close she had come to being hurt and would be angry with him. _Please don't let her figure it out_ , he prayed. Angry people, in Harry's world, equated to a beating and pain. While he wasn't certain just how much the young witch could hurt him should she become angry he also didn't want to discover the answer to that question first hand.

"We'll just have to be more careful next time," she replied as she flipped the book over to look at the back of it before returning it to the table next to the bed. _Maybe we can find an empty classroom next time…one without any books in it_ , she added with a mental chuckle.

Harry's head shot up at her words. "No, there can never be a next time," he told her in a frightened tone as he stared at her in disbelief. _I don't want you or anyone else to get hurt_ , he wanted to tell her this yet the words wouldn't pass his lips.

"Honestly, it will be alright," she said in way of reply even as she reached for his hand to pat it reassuringly only to see him flinch away from her touch and drop his eyes to his lap once more, unable to meet her gaze. Confused by his actions she slowly withdrew her hand and settled it in her lap to clasp the apple held there. "What happened, Harry?" she asked in a small almost frightened voice.

Hermione suddenly got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. All through Primary school she had seen her classmates act in a similar manner. Classmates who she had thought were her friends wanted nothing to do with the teacher's pet that constantly out preformed them. _He's going to tell me to stay away from him now_. _He's realized he made a mistake in talking to me and now regrets it._

Harry recoiled from her hand reflexively without even realizing he was doing it. Years of abuse had built into him a natural response to shy away from anything coming towards him, especially a hand or foot as it usually meant imminent pain. It was a self-preservation technique that he was no longer even aware of it was so ingrained. Had he been conscious of his actions he would have been ashamed to have done that to her.

"That was an amazing bit of magic you did last night," Hermione said as the silence between then had stretched nearly to the breaking point. "I mean I could hardly believe it when I started to hear all the pins falling to the floor," she rattled on in a vain attempt to fill the silence. Somewhere within her head she reasoned that if she just kept talking he wouldn't be able to tell her to keep away from him.

"I mean they just kept falling and falling. It was almost musical in the way they sounded when they struck the floor. Madam Pince was so upset she couldn't even say anything and had to sit down. I think she would have fallen down if she hadn't," she told him as she frantically searched for something else to talk about. The young witch licked her lips only to have the breath in her lungs freeze at his next words.

"You shouldn't be around me anymore," Harry said softly as soon as Hermione paused for a breath. _I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if someone was hurt due to me._ The Headmaster had as much as told him that his accidental magic could be dangerous. _What if I had turned her into a pin instead?_ That thought alone, more than any other froze his heart. "Just forget about me."

"Harry-" Hermione nearly sobbed at the rejection as she reached out towards him only to see him flinch away once again. She had been expecting it yet she hadn't thought it would hurt so much _. I thought this time would be different. I thought he was like I was_ , an assumption she now realized she had incorrectly made upon seeing him in the library with a stack of books yesterday.

"Please just leave," Harry said cutting her off, without looking at her as he knew that should he do so his resolve might falter. There was a slight sniffle from the chair next to him which nearly did him in but he steeled himself and endured. If there was one thing he was adept at it was enduring the unendurable.

"I understand," Hermione said in a strained yet controlled tone as she sniffled back the tears she felt building in her eyes and got to her feet. "I brought this for you as I thought you might be hungry," she told him as she set the apple in her hand on the bed next to his leg. Hermione's sadness only increased as she noticed how even his leg shied away from her possible touch where she had set the apple. _It's almost like he's afraid of being touched_ , the logical side of her mind reasoned even as the emotional part of her fought back bitter tears of yet another rejection.

Harry listened to Hermione's footsteps as she walked away and they grew fainter with each passing step till the hospital door closing cut them off entirely. _It's better this way_ , he told himself. _She'll be safer away from me_.

"Are you certain that is a wise thing to do?" a warm carrying voice asked from the foot of his bed suddenly. "Sending her away like that I mean?" Madam Pomfrey asked with sad eyes. "Seems to me you could use a good friend or three, Mr. Potter."

Harry shrugged at the Nurse's words. He had been alone for most his life, even while with family. He understood being alone. It was familiar and welcome to him. He still recalled what having a friend meant and it was not an experience he wished to repeat again. "She'll be better off this way," he replied with after a moment's pause.

_But will you be?_ she wondered silently. Poppy could do little but sigh in regret. Having cared for the students of Hogwarts now for several decades she realized that there were still times she didn't understand the youth of today. "Well, I won't tell you how to handle your personal business, Mr. Potter, your health though is another story," she told him with a firm look as she walked over to the side of his bed and held out a green vial to him. "Drink," she ordered in a no-nonsense tone.

Harry took the glass container and sniffed it curiously, his nose instantly wrinkling up at the foul odor. "If smells horrid," he complained. "What is it?"

"It's a Pick-Me-Up. Of course it smells terrible. It tastes even worse," she informed him of. "There are a lot of things that don't taste good or smell good but are none the less good for you. Now bottoms up!"

Harry cringed at the tone of her voice, realizing there would be no getting out of drinking the foul brew. Taking a deep breath he downed the contents of the glass vial in one swallow and then had to fight hard not to spew it back up. "Thanks," Harry said pitifully as he handed the now empty clear vial back to her.

Poppy chuckled at the tone of his voice. "Your clothes are in the drawer there," she told him pointing to the table next to his bed. "Shoes are under the bed. Get dressed and then hurry down to the great hall and have something to eat before classes," she instructed him. "If there are any signs of pain, light headedness or blurred vision you're to return here at once! Understood?"

"Yes, Ma`am," he replied with a small smile on his features at her business like mannerism. After Madam Pomfrey gave him a stern once over, as if she expected to find something she had missed before, she turned and retreated to her office. Harry quickly changed into his school uniform and shoes, slipping both apples into his robes, before walking to the hospital doors where he paused to glance back. "Hope I never have to come here again," he said aloud softly to himself before closing the door and heading down to the Dungeon to get his books for the day.


	6. From Outsiders To Charms

Ronald Weasley sighed and hefted his school bag over one shoulder before turning and making his way out of the boy's dormitory. Breakfast had been a good meal…a very good meal! With three plates full of eggs, potatoes and bacon in him he felt with a fair degree of certainty that he could hold out till lunch time. _If they keep feeding us like they did yesterday I could really come to love this place_ , he thought with a grin. The realization that he was talking about loving school had the boy shaking his head in disbelief as he turned and walked from the room. "Mental, I am," he said aloud to himself in a hushed tone of amazement.

Growing up in a large family he was used to large meals. With five older brothers, a younger sister and his parents, nothing short of a feast would suffice when the nine of them sat down to eat. Molly Weasley, his mother, loved to cook which made the kitchen her favorite room in the entire house. Cooking was more than just something to do; it was a way of life for the Weasley Matriarch. If there was one thing she did better than meddling it was cooking, although Ron thought it might be a tossup between the two as to which the woman was most accomplished at. The young redhead also couldn't decide which his mother preferred to do first. _A perfect day for Mum would be meddling while she was cooking_ , he mused with a silent chuckle at the image that thought called to mind.

_It's not like Mom gossips_ , he reminded himself as he trooped down the stairs from the dormitory into the Gryffindor common room. _She just likes to have her say in things…everything actually_ , he quickly added, his grin slipping slightly recalling several of the times he had been in the receiving end of his mother's sharp tongue. He had learned at a young age that there were two ways of doing things in the Weasley world, the wrong way, and his mother's way. _Nothing will get you an earful quicker around Mum than doing things the wrong way_ , he thought, his grin slipping further as he felt a stab of home sickness. As loud and as boisterous as his mother may be, he loved her dearly and missed her, even if he didn't want to admit that to anyone including himself.

This was the first time he had been away from home for any great length of time, and while it was exciting it was also a bit difficult to deal with. He missed the safety and security of his house and room. The young boy knew that many people often scoffed or made fun of the Burrow for how it looked yet to him it was home. To his way of thinking there really was no better place to be. Ron thought that the structure, with its many sides and portions out jutting like a poorly stacked set of blocks, reflected their unique family rather well. _We're all very different but together they're all my family_. That thought alone brought a warm smile back to his face.

While many did not think much of the small Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office his father worked for within the Ministry of Magic, Ron was very proud of his father. Arthur Weasley was honest, hardworking, loving and cared for his family a great deal. These were traits that the Weasley elder had tried to instill in his children. Judging by the oldest two siblings it was clear that Arthur had achieved his goal. Bill was a highly respected Curse Breaker employed by the Wizarding bank Gringotts while Charlie was currently working through an apprenticeship as a Dragon Handler at a secluded dragon preserve in Romania.

Percy, the third eldest Weasley brother was already a Prefect at Hogwarts and there was little doubt that he would follow in Bill's footsteps and become Head Boy one day. Ron couldn't help but feel the pressure of having such older brothers. Living in their shadow was no easy task for the eleven year old. The one saving grace, or perhaps two saving graces, were the twins. Fred and George were an endless source of both frustration as well as laughter to the Weasley parents. While Ron couldn't deny that he often fell prey to their pranks and latest potions he would be the first to admit that life was anything but dull around the both of them. With the twins about, laughter was the main course of any day.

Ron's little sister, Ginevra, was the youngest of the Weasley family brood. He, like his older brothers, was fiercely protective of the young girl. The young Gryffindor was both dreading as well as looking forward to his sister starting at Hogwarts next year. _It will be grand having her here_ , he told himself, _but looking after her will certainly cut into my free time_. With a mental shrug he just chalked it up to what brothers do, deciding to make the best of it and enjoy the time with her.

Ron adjusted his robes as best he could being that they were a little big for him. They were hand-me-down from Percy, as the twins were taller and hence their older clothes didn't fit correctly. It wasn't all bad he reasoned. Percy tended to take better care of his appearance and hygiene than the twins did. This usually meant that the clothes passed down to him were in better shape than if they had come from the twins. They also didn't have stains and odor from whatever new potion or mixture the twins had been cooking up at the time.

Life itself wasn't easy at all for the youngest male Weasley, being at the bottom of the male food chain meant that the word _new_ seldom, if ever, entered Ron's life. Almost everything he had, besides the Chudley Cannons posters in his room, had once belonged to someone else, from his shoes, to his trousers, to his knickers, and even to the wand that was currently tucked away in his pants pocket. In the Weasley world there was no such thing as an extra galleons, sickles or knuts. ' _If it was worn by one member of the family it is good enough to worn by another_ ' was one of Molly's favorite saying and one Ron had heard far more times than he would have liked to.

The young pureblood wizard had found it very hard to wait to turn eleven and start his schooling at Hogwarts. While he didn't know how much it was costing his parent for him to be there, he certainly didn't want them to think it had been a waste to send him. _I'll make them proud of me!_ He had made a promise to his younger self once that he would graduate and become a Quidditch star, so that he could get rich and take care of his parents. _We'll never want for anything ever again!_ His fervent wish was for his Dad to spend his declining years tinkering with Muggle items out in his shed while his Mum cooked and baked in the kitchen of the Burrow to her heart's content.

The lanky youth paused in the common room beside the Wizarding chess set long enough to shift a pawn forward two spaces as an opening gambit. It was a clear indication for anyone wanting to play a game to make their move. Ron had spent many a night playing chess with his father from an early age. His father had called it their 'bonding time'; however Ron quickly noticed that whenever his Mom wanted his Dad to do something the elder Weasley wasn't wanting to do, the chess board came out. They both enjoyed the challenge of the game as well as the time spent together regardless of the reason for it. These days it was usually an even split on who would win the game they were involved in. Satisfied with his first move Ron turned and quickly made his way to the passageway only to see the portrait of the fat lady swing aside as a tear streaked, busy-haired witch rushed past him clearly upset and crying.

"Hermione," Ron called out after the fleeing girl, even as he retraced his footsteps back to the common room only to see his classmate hastening up the stairs while hastily wiping at her cheeks. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"It's nothing Ron," Hermione replied over her shoulder a bit more curtly than she had intended. "You'd best head to class or you'll be late," she added pausing at the top of the stairs though refusing to turn about to face him. "I'll see you there. I just need to grab my books."

The young Gryffindor male had no clue what could have upset his new friend and even less of a clue as to what he should do. Crying girls, other than his sister, were a new experience for him which left him feeling rather barmy from not knowing what to do. The redhead quickly decided it wasn't something he liked and added ' _crying girls_ ' to his short list of things to avoid at all costs. Ron stood there, his face etched with concern, as the girl disappeared through the doorway to the girl's dormitory with her book bag clearly slung over one shoulder.

**-oOo-**

_I'm such a fool_ , she berated herself with silently. Leaving the hospital wing of Hogwarts she had hastened her pace towards the seventh floor and the Gryffindor tower. It was only through a sheer force of will that she had held back the hurt tears till the portrait had opened before her. Like the workings of a floodgate, it had signaled the start of her water works. The young witch had hoped that there would be no one in the Gryffindor common room. _Just my luck, someone would be here!_

Slipping into her dorm room she quickly made her way to her own bed and sat upon the foot of it as once more tears leaked free from her eyes and trailed their way down her youthful cheeks. _I'll have to apologize to Ron later_ , she thought, realizing she had been rude to the boy, even if unintentionally so. With a shrug of her shoulder she allowed the heavy book bag to fall to the bed behind her.

_Why? Why did Harry push me away?_ she asked herself once again as her logical mind refused to drop the matter even though it hurt her heart thinking of it. It was like a sore tooth that hurt to touch it, yet you couldn't resist probing it with your tongue. _He must blame me_ , she finally decided. _I pushed him to try transfiguring the match into a pin._ The young witch toppled over sideways onto her bed, her small shoulders shaking as silent sobs racked her body for several long moments.

_It's my fault entirely_ , she silently bemoaned in realization. _What if something had happened_ , she suddenly thought. The bright witch was well aware that something had happened but knew it could have possibly been worse. She was already aghast at the fact that all those books had been transfigured into pins, perhaps gone forever. Books were like friends to her as she had spent so much of her young life buried with her nose in them. Books had filled the place in her life where real friends should have been. The fact that her actions caused so many books to be destroyed was tantamount to blasphemy to the young studious girl. A sobering thought suddenly hit her. _What if Harry or someone else had been injured?_

The young brunette's mind was off and racing at the possibilities of what might have happened. Being smart had its drawbacks as it allowed her mind to clearly see all the possibilities and the devastating consequences they would hold. It didn't take very long for her to come to the same conclusion that Harry had previously in the hospital bed he had been lying in. _What if Harry had turned someone into a pin?_ A cold shiver ran down her spine as she realized that someone could have died.

Hermione sat up once again, shocked from her tears by the realization that they may have all very well just barely escaped death last night. _But could he actually do that?_ The young witch's mind was quickly off and running along that chain of thought. _Would it take stronger ability to turn a person into a pin than a book?_ "Granted he did transfigure a great many books," she stated aloud sullenly at the thought of the ruined treasures of printed words.

"But would that be enough to change a living person into an inanimate object?" she asked herself as she wiped the remains of the tears from her cheeks with one hand. "Harry said that it was accidental magic," she pursued her thoughts like a hungry dog after a bone. "By definition that would mean that it was unintentional what happened. Transfiguration requires the wizard or witch to impose their will upon the object they are trying to transfigure." Hermione chewed her lower lip for a long moment as she pondered that thought. "It would seem to me then that the act of transfiguring someone into a pin would have to be a very intentional one," she reasoned.

"So then," she said as she climbed to her feet, continuing her one sided dialogue, "if that is true then no one was really in any danger as Harry never meant for the magic to affect anything other than the match itself." The young witch made her way into the bathroom, slipping a washcloth from the shelf before she turned on the tap and held the cloth under the cool water. "So why then did the books get transfigured?"

Wringing the water from the wash cloth she turned the tap off and then folded the cloth before placing it over one closed eye. She was no stranger to tears and well knew that they made her eyes red as well as causing them to swell up. A cold compress was usually the quickest way to bring the swelling down. Standing there gazing into the mirror before the sink she thought back to last night. "The first indication that something was wrong was when my _Defense Against The Dark Arts_ book was suddenly gone," she recalled as she shifted the wash cloth to her other eyes and applied gentle pressure.

"It wasn't gone, it was transfigured!" she suddenly exclaimed excitedly, feeling she was on to something. The bushy-haired witch stared at her reflection for several long minutes as she pondered the implication of that realization. "Could it be so simple?" she asked herself in a tone of disbelief. "Could he have just not been focused enough?" she pondered, believing that the boy's attention had simply wandered to her book which had been lying right there within his field of vision. Hermione used the cloth to erase the tear tracks from her cheeks before leaning in closer and peering at herself in the mirror intently. "That has to be it," she said even as she turned away, satisfied with her appearance, knowing from experience that the redness around the edges of her eyes would go away in time.

Leaving the wash cloth on the counter next to the sink she walked back into the dorm room and to her bed, feeling better about herself. "At least no one was in any danger," she spoke aloud thoughtfully as she reached down and shouldered her book bag. It was with a pain of regret that she recalled Harry and his reaction to her presence just a short while ago. "Nothing to be done for it now," she told herself as she walked towards the door to head to class.

_I was so certain that he was like me_ , she mused to herself. Once again she saw him seated at the table reading through the books before him. _That could have just as easily been me seated there and reading those books._ This realization did little to make her feel better. _Perhaps I wanted to make a new friend…someone like myself, so badly that I just imagined that he and I would have anything in common._

Lost in thought the young Gryffindor slowly descended the stairs. _Harry must have been there just because he couldn't perform the transfiguration in class. He only asked me because he thought I would know the answer to being able to do it._ Any further thoughts were suddenly interrupted.

"Ready then?" Ron asked with a nervous smile from where he was leaning against the wall near the passage way.

Hermione looked up, pulled from her musing by the boy's voice so close at hand. The young witch only then slowly realized that she may not be able to be friends with The-Boy-Who-Lived, however he was also not the only student here at Hogwarts. "Yeah, I guess so," she replied with a hesitant smile of her own.

The two first year students made their way through the passageway, the portrait closing silently behind them. It was a surprisingly quick trip to the third floor as the staircases must have known they were running late and so seemed to align perfectly for them. It wasn't till they entered the Charms corridor leading to classroom 2E that the silence between them was broken.

"Alright there Granger?" Ron enquired without looking towards the witch walking next to him.

"Just fine," Hermione replied as she adjusted the heavy book bag on her shoulder. "Ronald, did you recall to read the Charms chapter last night?" The groan which escaped the redhead's lips next to her left little doubt that the boy hadn't. The young witch chuckled while rolling her eyes, wondering if she would have to stay after her housemate all term.

**-oOo-**

The blonde Slytherin witch was making her way through the first floor corridor from the great hall when she spied a familiar unruly mop of black hair ahead of her and hastened her pace to catch up with The-Boy-Who-Lived. Upon reaching Harry's side she slowed to match her pace to his. She could see that he was deep in thought as he hadn't as yet noticed her presence. Daphne nudged him slightly with her elbow only to see his emerald eyes turn and regard her for a long second before recognition dawned.

"Alright there Harry?" Daphne Greengrass asked as they approached the Grande stairway and waited for the set of stairs to shift towards them.

Harry shrugged slightly before answering, "As well as I can be I guess," he replied unassumingly as he unconsciously eased to the side so there was greater distance between the two of them.

The young witch noticed the shifting away from her and found it rather refreshing. More accustomed to wizards attempting to get closer to her in the hopes of garnishing her attention it was a new experience to see a boy shy away for a change. She had no doubt that those who sought her affections and attention did so solely for her family name and whatever political or financial gain it could bring them. She half suspected this to be the driving force behind Draco's recent actions but had no proof…not that it would change anything if she did.

Daphne smiled slightly as they stepped out onto the stairs which had shifted into place and began the climb to the third floor where their Charms class was to be held. "You look better than you did last night," she told him. The young Slytherin was careful to maintain the separation between them that Harry had set. She was glad that Tracey had forgotten her book and had to run down to the Dungeon to retrieve it as it allowed her this time alone with Harry, though she felt slightly guilty about being glad her closest friend wasn't there.

"I see, so that was you," Harry said thoughtfully, chewing the inside of his lip for a moment. "I wasn't certain if it was you or if I had been dreaming," he explained. Recalling the Hospital reminded him what he had been lost in thought about when the blonde witch had caught up with him. _I hope Hermione understands_ , he worried, feeling bad for having turned her away even if it was for her own welfare.

"Dreaming of me already are you?" Daphne asked with a grin unable to resist teasing him and feeling it was proper payback for not telling her who he really was on the train.

"NO! Never!" Harry quickly exclaimed, aghast at such a thought. The volume of his response surprised both her, as well as himself, at how loudly he repudiated her words. Several other students who were at various other locations on the stairs looked in their directions as his words echoed about the relatively enclosed area.

The grin quickly dropped from the young witch's face. "I'm sorry Harry. I was just having a go at you is all," Daphne said softly. "I didn't mean anything by it." The Greengrass girl wasn't certain what to make of the wizard next to her as his behavior was anything other than what she had come to expect from the male members of Wizarding Houses.

"No," Harry said after taking a shaky breath and running his fingers through his hair, only making it more unruly, "I shouldn't have yelled like that. I'm really sorry," he apologized as they stepped off the stairs and made their way to the Charms corridor. "I'm not used to being around others all that much," he told her quietly as if ashamed to admit it.

Daphne waved one hand as if dismissing his apology. "It's alright," she assured him, feeling it was as much her own fault as his. "A lot of families keep their children close to home," she explained. When he didn't refute her words she decided to let the matter stand.

The two walked a short ways in silence. "If you don't mind me asking, why were you in the hospital wing last night?" Harry enquired.

"Studying," Daphne replied as classroom 2E came into view. The young witch decided not to mention that she had also been listening in on a conversation between the school's Medical Witch and the Headmaster as well. A part of her was upset that she had listened and knew what she did. All she could do now was to keep what she had heard to herself and try to act like nothing had changed.

_How do you tell a friend that you heard all about the horrendous life they had growing up?_ Her own thoughts gave her pause and rise to another question. _Is Harry a friend?_ Daphne quickly decided that it was far too soon to decide anything of that nature. _Counting last night this is only our third time even speaking to each other_ , she reasoned. Now was also not the time to be mentioning anything she had heard last night she affirmed to herself. _If we ever do become friends and Harry decides to tell me then I will certainly be all ears._

Harry's face took on a puzzled look for a moment as he contemplated her answer. "Seems like an unusual place to do that," he finally replied with, still puzzled by her reason for being there.

Daphne turned and looked at him with a bemused smile, "It seems that the library had to close early last night," she said only to see him look away and to the ground but not before she saw the embarrassed look on his face.

"Sorry," he softly apologized, his voice thick with remorse, just as they walked into the class room. Without another word or even a look in her direction Harry turned and quickly made his way to the top row of seats before walking the length of the classroom to the seat that was furthest from the door.

Having heard of the incident in the library she had hoped to play it off with a bit of humor yet it seemed to have the opposite effect on the dark haired wizard. _That's twice now that I've tried to be funny and it has failed miserably_ , she mused to herself. Daphne turned and followed the back of the retreating boy, uncertain why she was even bothering doing so. _Third time's the charm, right?_

As they reached the last two seats the wizard-to-be before her stopped and turned to sit. Daphne didn't fail to see the startled expression that appeared upon his face as soon as he realized that she had followed him. Setting her book bag down on the desktop she quickly pulled out her book as well as her writing quill, ink and parchment. Slipping the shoulder strap over the back of her chair she seated herself and arranged the items before her.

"Not much of a sense of humor then?" she casually asked without turning to look at Harry.

"Who?" asked Blaise Zabini upon dropping into the seat next to Daphne. "Potter here? He has loads of humor. Tried to tell me he'd read all the books prior to the start of term," the dark Slytherin said as he pulled out his own book and writing items. "No matter how you look at it, what you did in the library was bloody brilliant, mate! I can just imagine the look on Madam Pince's face," Blaise finished with, shaking his head back and forth with a huge grin on his face.

"But I did read them," Harry shot back a bit defensively before realizing what he was doing and dropping his eyes to the book before him. "The library was just an accident. It wasn't like I planned to do that."

"Call it what you will, Potter," Blaise said turning in his seat to regard them both, "it was still pretty funny."

Harry sighed heavily and looked away as he realized that no matter what he said or did it wasn't going to change anything that had already happened. The young wizard had learned early on in his life that an opinion could see you doing without food or worse, beaten. As he looked out over the classroom his eyes were drawn to where the Gryffindor students were seated and a certain bushy-haired witch who was sitting in the front row, closest to the large desk that could only belong to the Professor who would be teaching the class. For a brief moment their eyes met before Harry quickly looked away, dropping his gaze, however not before noticing the redness of her eyes. _Has she been crying?_ he wondered.

"Look," Harry said, after licking his lips to moisten them, "you guys probably shouldn't be around me," he told them. "You'd do best to keep your distance I think." Once more he couldn't bring himself to tell them it was for their own safety and that he would feel miserable if anything were to happen to them due to his actions and apparent inability to control his magic.

Daphne turned to look at the dark haired boy next to her for a second before glancing about the classroom. "It would seem all the other seats are already taken." The blonde witch couldn't help but feel there was more to his words than just simply not sitting by him. "Looks like you're stuck with us, Potter," she informed him of, using his last name for the first time to express her disapproval of his previous statement.

"No I don't mean just in class," Harry said with a shake of his head. "I mean any other times as well." Harry turned to look at the two other Slytherin's then and they both could see the near pleading in his emerald eyes.

"That would be fairly hard to do as we're housemates and share a dorm," Blaise replied. "Besides, us outsiders need to stick together," he added with a crooked grin. "Safety in numbers and all that rubbish."

"Outsiders?" Daphne asked, curious what he meant. "How do you figure?"

"Malfoy already has Crabbe and Goyle following him around like his pet bodyguards. Last night I saw him talking to Theo Nott so I suspect he'll be joining them as well." Blaise leaned in and lowered his tone. "We're in Slytherin. You can't survive by being alone in our House."

"I don't need any friends," Harry spoke up forcibly wanting to put a stop to any thoughts either of them might be having in regards to him. "I can manage on my own."

"Friends?" Blaise scoffed at the other boys words. "There's no such thing as friends within Slytherin, Potter. There are those you know, those you use, those you ignore and those you abuse. Being firsties you can bet that none of the other years are even going to admit that we exist unless it is to use or abuse us," he told them both. "That means if we're to have any chance of surviving we outsiders have to band together."

"Outsiders?" Harry asked, intrigued despite himself. "How could we possibly be labeled outsiders in our own House?"

Blaise nodded before explaining. "I'm an outsider simply because I won't play by Malfoy's rules. I don't buy into the whole pureblood dribble that he and his kind are spewing. Greengrass here," he said with a tilt of his head in the blonde witch's direction, "while still a pureblood, has already shot the prat down twice, once on the train and then in the common room in front of almost everyone. He's not likely to forget that," Blaise warned the witch seated next to him. "His pride as a Pureblood won't let a slighting of that nature go overly long without a response. If he did then others would think him soft and wouldn't want to follow him."

"Are all Purebloods like that," Harry asked in disbelief as he turned to regard the young witch seated between him and Blaise.

Daphne looked down and started playing with the cuff at the end of the sleeve of her robe as she felt Harry's questioning eyes upon her. "I don't know what game he's playing at but I don't have any intentions of playing it." Her small fingers absently plucked at a loose thread. "I may be a Pureblood but that doesn't mean I'm anything like Draco," she stated firmly.

"Exactly!" exclaimed Blaise as if that proved his point. "Because you're not like Draco that makes you an Outsider!"

"What does this have to do with me?" Harry asked. "I know nothing about Purebloods or anything else really. Does that make me an Outsider just because I am ignorant of the customs of Wizarding society?"

Zabini chuckled softly. "Mate, as bad as Greengrass and I have it you're worse off than the both of us combined." Seeing the confused expressions on both their faces he explained it to them. "On the night of the sorting you snubbed the entire House by sitting at the very end by yourself. Your Housemates all interpreted that as you believing you were better than the rest of them. The-Boy-Who-Lived is above sitting with everyone else."

"I'm sure that's not what Harry meant," Daphne spat out before the boy next to her could speak up for himself. "Maybe he just liked sitting at the end of the table or he's unused to eating with others," she offered in Harry's defense recalling the boy's family life and realizing she really had no real clue.

Blaise shrugged slightly. "Doesn't really matter at this point as that is how they all saw it. I'd be surprised if many of them didn't see the entire library thing as you just showing off, Potter." Blaise paused and quickly glanced about to ensure no one was listening to them before he continued. As the dark skinned wizard leaned in the other two did as well, hanging on his every word. "I overheard several fourth years talking about how you were trying to put everyone in their place. I'd watch your back if I was you, mate."

Harry thought for a moment before realizing that this was no different from being home in many ways. There was always a mishap or a beating around every corner there thanks to Dudley and his Uncle Vernon. It was never a question of _if_ but rather _when_ it would happen. "I don't need any friends," Harry reiterated as he sat back and turned in his seat and tucked in. "I'll be fine." Any further discussion was forestalled by the arrival of Professor Flitwick the Charms instructor.

**-oOo-**

Professor Filius Flitwick was a short man, even by Harry's standards which was saying something as the eleven year old wasn't very tall himself. There was something about the white haired wizard that Harry took an instant liking to. Perhaps it was his white hair and the manner in which it blended directly into his beard and mustache so that you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. It might have been the calm and respectful manner that the diminutive wizard spoke to each and every student. There was a certain air of distinction about the wizard that made him appear larger than his actual size. Whatever the reason might have been Harry knew almost instinctually that the small professor would be one of his favorites at Hogwarts.

"The Levitation Charm was invented in 1544 by the warlock Jarleth Hobart who mistakenly believed that he had at last succeeded in doing what wizardkind had so far failed to do, namely learn to fly," the Professor told his class of Gryffindors and Slytherins. "It was discovered during a demonstration that the charm had actually levitated Hobart's clothes and not himself. Sadly it took him falling to the ground and injuring himself after removing his clothes in mid-air to determine this." There were several snickers and laughs throughout the classroom at his tale.

"Laugh if you want but many of the charms, jinxes and hexes we use today were discovered in much the same manner. It is only through trial and sometimes error," the professors paused dramatically as he reached up and brushed his whiskers and beard for a moment recalling that it was a misfired charm that saw him looking as he currently did, "that new spells may come into existence. Now while the tale of Jarleth Hobart may be humorous to us, he was fortunate enough to escape with only sixteen broken bones when he plummeted back to earth. I highly doubt he found his injuries funny at the time."

"A very close and dear friend of mine who was an extraordinary witch in her own right, used to love to experiment. One day one of her spells went terribly wrong with dire consequences." The small Professor sighed sadly for a moment before he continued in a soft and somber tone. "Her husband Xenophilius and their young daughter who she left behind have never been the same."

"This is why it is important not to try things on your own until such time as you are ready for it. Many a good wizard or witch has lost their lives in the pursuit of knowledge, even under the best of circumstances and the most stringent of safety precautions." The Professor's steely eyes scanned each and every face to insure they understood the seriousness of the matter. "People die, sometimes taking those around them with them as well."

"If you'll turn to the first chapter in your book and read it over then," the professors said as he slipped from the chair behind his desk and walked out to the center of the classroom. "Once you're done reading I would like you to practice saying the charm ten times followed by performing the wand movement ten times as well. You may begin." The professor made his way about the room offering helpful suggestions where he saw they were needed.

"Right then," Professor Flitwick said as he walked over and climbed upon his mountain of books so that everyone could see him. "Now that we've had our safety talk and you've all read over the charm and have practiced the proper enunciation as well as the correct wand movement, let's give it a try shall we." With a wave of his wand a white feather appeared before each student. "Wands at the ready," the Professor said before waiting a few moments till he could see that everyone was ready. "Repeat after me… _Wingardium Leviosa_ "

Harry sat and looked at the feather before him with trepidation. All too clearly he recalled what had transpired the last time he had attempted to use magic. _What if I can't control it?_ The safety talk delivered just a short bit ago by the Professor has sent a chill down the young boy's spine. _I could have hurt Hermione as well as anyone else in the library yesterday_. The thought of hurting another, even by accident, made him feel sick to his stomach.

The white feather sat there calling for his attention as if it were silently challenging him. _What if I can't do this?_ _What will happen to me_ , he asked himself. _They'll probably be forced to expel me and ship me back to the Dursleys_ , he realized. _Can't have a non-magical at a school for witchcraft and wizardry after all._ Even after the accidental magic incident in the library he was fairly certain that if he couldn't learn to use magic normally they wouldn't allow him to remain. His emerald eyes stared at the feather for a long moment before he lifted his wand to make the proper gesture.

Beside him he could hear Daphne speaking the charm and swishing with her wand. The white feather before her jerked to one side and then slid back to the other. Momentarily distracted Harry watched as the witch tried once again and the feather slowly rose into the air to float about jerkily following the movements of the witch's wand.

"Well done, Ms. Greengrass," Professor Flitwick exclaimed upon seeing the floating feather. "Ms. Granger as well," the small teacher added as another feather quickly ascended to join Daphne's above the heads of the class members. "Five points to each of your Houses!"

Harry turned back to his own feather as he tightened his grip upon his wand. _I can do this_ , he told himself. " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," he spoke as he swished and flicked his wand. There was the same rushing sound within his ears as he had first heard within the library however this time it did not grow to become overwhelming as it had previously. The feather jumped up a foot from the desk and hovered there in the air motionless. Unlike other feathers that seemed to float or hop about his held perfectly still.

"Nice, Harry," Daphne said next to him having witnessed him perform he charm on his first attempt. "The steadier an object is the great the control of the witch or wizard levitating it," she told him as they both stared at the rock solid feather in the air.

"Thanks," Harry replied breathlessly as he turned and looked towards her with wide eyes and the brightest smile she had ever seen on anyone's face before. "I did it," he added in a disbelieving tone of voice.

"And on your first attempt as well," Daphne replied with a grin of her own at his apparent relief and obvious joy at completing the charm. The blonde witch turned to the Slytherin boy on her other side only to see that he was not having nearly as much success as Harry and she had with their feathers.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," Blaise said, the frustration clearly evident in his words as well as his features.

"Relax your wrist, it's too stiff," Daphne offered. "It's swish and flick," she demonstrated for her Housemate. "You're pronouncing it correctly though try to hold the R a bit longer."

"Thanks Professor," Zabini replied with a teasing grin.

"Prat! I may just have to give you detention!" Daphne fired back with a scowl which was quickly ruined when she started to giggle. "Just do it."

Blaise nodded before turning back to his feather and trying it once again as she had suggested. It took him another two tries but he was eventually able to coax the feather to rise off the desk and hover before him though it appeared to be fighting a heavy breeze which wished nothing more than to blow it across the room. "Thanks Greengrass," he offered with a nod and a crooked grin without taking his eyes off his feather.

"You boys would be lost without us girls here to show you how it's done properly," Daphne replied with her blue eyes twinkling merrily. Glancing over at the Gryffindors her eyes met those of the Granger girl who tipped her head slightly towards her. Daphne nodded once in return, a kudo to them both they were saying for once again being the first in their class to complete the assignment.

"You and Granger seem to be putting the rest of us to shame," Blaise said with a grin to clearly indicate that the fact didn't bother him in the least. "Some more than others," he added tipping his head towards Draco who was seated in the front row and hadn't managed to levitate his feather as yet.

The class continued as more and more of them managed to complete the charm. It wasn't long before everyone had finally managed to lift their feathers off the desktops. Some who were more proficient at the charm than others started dive-bombing other students feathers with their own. An Irish boy from Gryffindor House was the last to complete the charm but only after managing to explode two feathers. A feat that the small wizard leading the class was heard to say he had never seen happen before in all his years of teaching.

Professor Flitwick finally dismissed the class after giving them their homework assignment. Harry remained in his seat, pretending not to notice the questioning looks sent his way by Daphne and Blaise as they made their way out of the classroom. Once everyone had left for the great hall and the waiting lunch there, Harry approached the small teacher who was now seated in the plush chair behind the large desk once again.

"Excuse me, Sir. I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time," Harry asked, causing the Professor to look up from the paperwork he was reading. "If it's not too much of a bother that is," Harry stammered. It was taking all of his courage to address the adult, something that didn't happen in his world and life with the Dursleys. He had it beaten into him at an early age that you didn't speak unless you were asked a direct question and then you answered in as short a reply as possible.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Filius said with a warm and inviting smile, most of which was lost in the thick growth of facial hair, upon seeing who had spoken to him. "What may I do for you?" he enquired as he clasped his hands together before him on the desk, his short stubby fingers interlacing.

Harry swallowed quickly, suddenly feeling uncertain upon having the wizard's full attention. The young wizard knew that had this been an adult size Professor he most certainly would never had been able to address him at all. It was only the diminutive size that was closely akin to someone more his own age that allowed Harry to continue. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about accidental magic, Sir."

The aged wizard removed his glasses and pulling a cloth from within his robes began to clean the lenses carefully. "Am I to believe this is in regards to what happened within the library last night?" Filius asked, already suspecting the answer to his question but wishing to make certain.

"Yes, Sir," Harry promptly answered. "I was wondering if it…I mean to say what I did…if it…," the youths words trailed off as he suddenly became uncertain of how to phrase his question.

"You wish to know if your accidental magic could have harmed someone," Filius guessed judging by the boy's hesitation to actually ask the question. At the young wizard's nod he continued. "I would be lying to you if I told you that magic left uncontrolled couldn't be dangerous. Magic is a force unlike any other in existence. Left to run wild there is no telling what it might do. In most cases accidental magic is usually reserved for those who are fairly young which also ensures that they don't have much strength to affect anything in a manner that could be considered harmful or life threatening."

"How young?" Harry asked fearfully. Now that his main question was out, even if the answer wasn't favorable, he wanted to learn as much as he could. The dark haired youth still had the book given to him that morning by the Headmaster; however he had as yet had a chance to do more than skim through it.

Filius slipped his glasses back on and pondered the young wizard's question before deciding to answer him truthfully. "We've seen it happen with children as young as two or three years of age, sometimes as late as five or six but hardly ever past that age." The Charms Professor had been stunned upon hearing of the events that had transpired in the library. While some had suspected it of being a prank that had gone awry Filius wasn't blinkered enough to not suspect it was exactly what the Headmaster had said it was, accidental magic.

Harry's brow creased as he tried to process this bit of information. "It doesn't make any sense then, Sir. I mean why me? Why am I different?" For a boy who wanted to be left alone the last thing he wanted was to be different from others. In this case, if his fears were accurate, his difference could prove fatal to someone around him. The thought that it might prove life threatening to himself never crossed his mind.

"There is still a great deal about accidental magic we do not understand, Mr. Potter. It is theorized that it is seen in young children because their minds and bodies are still developing and hence that is when it makes its first appearance. It isn't very powerful, much in the same manner that an infants or toddlers grip isn't very strong," the Charms Professor explained.

"In most cases once sufficient hand eye coordination skills have been developed the ability seems to go dormant for a while. Again it's only a theory but experts have thought that as the body turns its primary focus to growth and learning it could be suppressing these magical attributes," Filius told the boy standing before him all the while watching him closely.

"When a witch of wizard enters puberty the ability seems to resurface with a vengeance which is why we do not enroll students till they are eleven. It is hoped that by the time their bodies begin to change they will have sufficient control of their abilities that there won't be any danger to those around them or themselves," Filius said trying to recall all that he could about the condition they were discussing.

"But Professor that still doesn't explain why it is happening to me," Harry stated in a very confused and puzzled tone. "I've had strange things happening to me my entire life," he confessed, "but have never known why or what it is. I'm eleven now Sir. Is it normal in the least for such things still be occurring?" Harry asked looking up and meeting the Professor's eyes.

"Leading experts think that maybe just as some people are late to bloom so might some be slow for their magical potential to go dormant." Filius looked the boy over, noticing for the first time his small size, short stature and apparent thinness. "If someone was malnourished to the point that it stunted their growth that could possible account for a difference," he said making an educated guess. The small man was no stranger to physical deficiencies himself and was more than capable of seeing them in others. "The human body is an amazing and immensely complex machine of which we still understand so little about when you get right down to the inner workings of it and the mind that controls it all."

"As I said at the onset of this conversation, there is a great deal as yet still unknown about accidental magic. There very well could be any number of reasons for your outbreak." Filius sighed, leaning back in his chair. "In all honesty we really have no clue why these things happen. If I had to hazard a guess I would say it is a possibility that it is due to who you are."

"Who I am?" Harry asked, confused even further by this revelation.

Filius nodded. "You're The-Boy-Who-Lived when by all rights you shouldn't have. Something unprecedented took place that night which none of us, having neither been present to witness it or participate in it, can honestly say with any degree of certainty just what it was. Perhaps it is due in part to that," the tiny Professor pointed to the scar on Harry's forehead, "you are different, Mr. Potter. You survived a killing curse, something no one else had ever done or has done since. That alone certainly had to change you," he told the young wizard in a sympathetic tone of voice.

"I see," Harry replied even as his mind was deep in thought processing everything he had just learned. He could see a great deal of time spent in the library researching everything he could find on the subject of accidental magic. Quickly following that thought was the realization that he would have to face Madam Pince if he was to be able to learn what he needed to. "Thank you Professor. You've been very helpful."

"That's what I'm here for, Mr. Potter," Filius replied with a warm smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

"Actually there is. When a person does magic should they hear anything?" Harry asked.

"I'm not certain what you're asking," Filius replied, his curiosity piqued by the boys question. "Do you mean should everything go silent around them?"

"No, it's like I hear this noise," Harry answered slowly attempting to find the correct words to explain what he had heard. "It's almost like a wind which I can hear within my head I think. I'm still hearing everything else that is happening about me though. Is that normal, Sir?" Harry asked with a creased brow, not certain he had explained it sufficiently enough to make it clear to the seated Professor.

"Did you hear it today while you were performing the charm?" the Professor asked. Seeing the boy nod that he had, Filius continued with his next question. "How about last night in the library? Did you hear it then as well?" Filius couldn't help but feel that the lad was just full of surprises. First the accidental magic in the library and now the possibility of some new magical indicator.

Harry had to pause and think for a long moment before he nodded that he had. "It was different though. It started out the same; however it became more like a rushing sound." Harry frowned, disappointed with himself for being unable to recall more from the experience. "I'm sorry Professor," he said looking up to the seated man, "most of what happened is a hazy blur which I can't seem to recall clearly. I've tried several times since then but to no avail."

"That's alright, Mr. Potter," the white haired Professor told Harry. "I'll admit this is the first I've heard of anyone hearing sound in association with their use of magic." Filius leaned forward and regarded the young wizard for several long moments. "You're a very interesting young man, Mr. Potter. If you like I can do some research into the matter and let you know what I find."

"Thank you Sir. I think I should like that," Harry said in a clearly relieved tone. Given the Professor's help Harry still felt it would be best to do his own research in the library as well. _Two sets of eyes are better than one_ , he reasoned silently to himself.

"For now I wouldn't worry too much about it," Filius said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "If you should hear this rushing sound again," he paused for a moment to ensure he was using the correct term which Harry had used previously, "please come and let me know."

"I will," Harry promised. "Thank you Professor," the boy added with a relieved smile suddenly feeling better. There was every possibility that between the two of them they could figure out the cause for his affliction or at the very least a means by which to prevent another occurrence of the same wild magic as had happened in the library.

"Off with you now," Filius said in way of reply as he made a shewing motion with both hands. "If you don't hurry you'll have no time for lunch before your afternoon class." The Charms Professor watched as the boy gave a quick nod before turning and hastening from the room. "A very interesting lad indeed," Filius said aloud to himself as he stared towards the doorway the boy had left through.

**-oOo-**

"My father said that Professor Snape is the best Potion's Master in all of Europe," Draco spouted while seated at the Slytherin table for lunch. "We'll finally be able to learn something from a Professor who actually knows what they're doing," the young corn-silk haired youth said with a sneer, implying that none of the other teachers were up to snuff.

"McGonagall is so old I wager she forgets where she is half the time," Draco said with a chuckle though making sure his voice didn't carry to the head table and the referenced witch who was seated there eating lunch and chatting with the dark skinned Astronomy Witch next to her. Crabbe and Goyle, seated across from their groups undisputed ring leader were quick to add their blusterous laughter.

"It's pathetic what passes for Professors these days," the young Malfoy continued with, his voice heavy with contempt. "Flitwick isn't even human!" he exclaimed, referencing the rumor that there was goblin blood somewhere back in the diminutive Professor's heritage. "Is it any wonder he couldn't teach us the simplest of charms today?"

Blaise leaned forward from his seat further down the table and added his two knuts. "Funny I didn't see anyone else having as much trouble as you did, Malfoy" the first year Slytherin said loud enough to ensure everyone seated close could clearly hear him. "As I recall you only just accomplished it before Crabbe and Goyle did."

"It did seem to take him a bit longer than most to complete the charm," Tracy Davis added from her place across the table from Blaise and next to Daphne who remained silent, not even bothering to glance in the Malfoy heir's direction or acknowledge his presence.

"Belt up, Davis!" Draco hissed angrily his temper finally snapping at being talked about in such a manner. The fact that it was all truth only served to anger him further. "Your betters are speaking!"

"Better at what," Tracey scoffed without flinching. "Certainly not better at levitation charms!" The Slytherin girl's response drew several laughs from those seated nearby who had been listening in on the conversation. Tracey's grin only grew as she watched the young Malfoy's face turn bright red in embarrassment.

"Is there a problem here?" asked a contemptuous voice from directly behind Draco, effectively keeping the boy from drawing the wand he had been reaching for.

"No, Professor Snape," Tracey answered innocently. "We were just discussing this morning's Charms class and how some people fared better than others," Tracey continued with straight-faced. "Daphne earned us another five points as well."

Snape's dark eyes swept the table quickly as if daring any of them to cause an issue and force him to deduct points from his own house. "Very well then. Carry on," he replied in a slow monotone drawl before turning with his robes bellowing out behind him, to continue on his way to the staff table.

"Watch yourself, Davis," Draco spat out between clenched teeth before rising from the table. "My father will be certain to hear about this!" Draco threatened angrily. With a jerk of his head Crabbe and Goyle both stood, glancing with regret at the food still on their plates, and made to follow their leader who was storming from the hall.

"I don't believe he was charmed with you at all, Davis," Blaise deadpanned causing Daphne to choke on the pumpkin juice she had been drinking.

Tracey grinned as she pounded her blonde friend on the back in an attempt to help her breath correctly once again. "I guess I'll have to work at it some more then," she said in a melancholy tone of voice that was clearly meant to be theatrical. "I was so certain I had it down just right too," she added causing Daphne to choke all the more as she attempted to laugh, choke and breath all at the same time. "Oh dear, I think we've broken her!" Tracey said with a wide grin towards Blaise.

"You guys shouldn't antagonize him like that," said Pansy Parkinson as she slipped into the seat next to the chuckling Blaise Zabini. "It doesn't set a good appearance to have Purebloods disagree in front of others," the dark haired girl added, overlooking the fact that Tracey was actually a half-blood.

"Perhaps if he didn't make it so bloody easy we wouldn't," Blaise replied before taking a sip of his own juice and winking at the two girls seated across from him who both smiled in agreement to his statement. "Some things are just too good to pass up," Blaise concluded with as he set his cup back down on the table.

"I would be all too happy to leave him alone, Parkinson," offered a red faced Daphne who had only just then managed to stop choking and regain control of her breathing again, "if he would return the favor and steer clear of me. Honestly I don't know what his game is but I wish he'd just clear off and leave me be!"

"Draco will be the head of the Malfoy house one of these days," Pansy replied in such a manner as to make it sound like it would next week rather than several decades in the future. "I should think you'd be pleased to have such a pureblood interested in you in such a manner, Greengrass."

"We're barely eleven!" Daphne said in disbelief. "I'm far too young to be thinking about anything of that nature. No offense Blaise, but boys are just….," the blonde girl's words trailed off but the visible shiver that ran down her body said it clearly enough for the others to get the message.

"My Mom says that now's the time to start looking for a marriage contract partner," Pansy told them matter-of-factly as her head turned to look in the direction that Draco had gone. "There aren't that many good purebloods out there and if you wait you might have to settle for the ones like Crabbe or Goyle."

"You can't be serious?" Tracey interjected, finding it difficult to believe that anyone in their year could be contemplating marriage contracts already.

"Suit yourselves," Pansy replied. "Don't come crying to me when you're stuck with Vincent Crabbe and slaving over a stove every day to keep him fed." The three other Slytherins exchanged looks before pushing their plates away in unison, having suddenly lost their appetites.


	7. The Potions Master

Severus Snape did not have a happy life. The Potions Master of Hogwarts sat at the head table glaring, alternately, between the students seated before him and his food. Lunch, much as the students, was the same as always. Unappealing to say the least. After a decade of eating and teaching at Hogwarts they had both become routine rather than something he enjoyed doing. He found teaching to be tedious at best and bothersome at worst. The best part of his day was after classes when he could brew his own droughts and potions within the privacy of his own quarters.

This year though was different from the previous one or at least he suspected it would be. The dark clothed Professor was both looking forward to as well as dreading his afternoon class which accounted for his foul mood. Taking another bite of the tasteless fare before him his dark eyes glanced towards his own House table only to note a certain absence. _Her son is not there_ , he thought silently to himself, taking comfort in the fact that he wouldn't have to look upon the boy who was the spitting image of his most hated rival. Mechanically chewing his food his mind wandered back to distant memories that happened far from Hogwarts and the man he was today.

Born of a Pureblood witch and a muggle father Severus himself was considered a half-blood. As a child he learned early on that his parent's marriage was not a happy one. His father, Tobias Snape, drank excessively while being happy with nothing in life. His mother, Eileen Snape, often left for weeks at a time to her relatives, the Prince family. Neither parent seemed to care that they had a child. The young boy was often neglected and left to fend for himself. As a child he also learned something else, that he was different than other children.

The young Severus had the ability to do wondrous things with merely a thought or a slight gesture. At the age of six he could grow flowers with a wave of his hand or call items to him just by thinking of them. To his young mind it was all very magical. He had as yet no idea that his mother was a witch and that he had inherited her special abilities making him a wizard. He only knew that he was different…better, than others. It wasn't till later years that he took his blood status as well as his mother's surname and coined his own nickname, ' _The Half-Blood Prince'_.

Knowing he was different he could no longer see the other children in the neighborhood as the same as himself. They were not the same as he was as they could not make flowers fly or capture the light of the sun and hold it in their hands. He was special. He was something they most certainly were not. They were beneath him for the simple fact that they were…ordinary.

He was a child with a new toy…a new magical toy and like any child with a new toy he wished to play with it. If there was one thing about Spinner's End, a shabby suburb of Cokeworth, it was that there were plenty of abandoned and dilapidated buildings. These proved to be perfect places for the small boy to hide away and see just what his new found abilities could do. Hiding in such a manner also saved him from other dangers such as the roving bands of bullies that always seem to frequent such rundown neighborhoods.

Coming from a very poor family he did not have the newest of clothes or the best of shoes. In fact he usually looked rather shabby as one primary teacher was once overheard to comment upon his general appearance. His clothes were so mismatched as to almost appear as if it were on purpose. The older boys were always quick to pick upon him when there were no adults about. Even when there were teachers present he had been branded a klutz for the sheer fact of the number of times he seemed to trip over his own feet. In reality it was not his feet that caused the tripping but rather those who took joy in tormenting him.

The young Severus had a certain look about him. He was not well fed, though one could hardly say he was malnourished. The half-blood child spent a great deal of time inside reading which gave him a very pale complexion which many often mistook for ill health or a weakness…in later years to their own misfortune. There was just something about the child that the larger boys couldn't resist. His thinness, aloofness and manner of dress just seemed to scream ' _bully me_ ' to them. It was like chum in the water to the circling sharks…, irresistible.

It was on a certain summer's day, no different than many others, in his seventh year along the muddy river that flowed sluggishly not far from Spinner's End that the young boy's life changed. The local bullies had dragged him down to the water's edge for a bit of _play time_ as they put it. Tired of being their wiping boy the young wizard had grown angry and the largest of the three bullies suddenly found himself flying through the air and landing with a loud splash in the river. The startling fact for all those present was that no one had apparently laid a hand on the large boy. His comrades called from the bank of the river encouraging him to swim to shore as the boy thrashed about in the muddy water.

The water was not excessively deep where the boy landed nor was the current strong enough to even pull the bully along the river's path. Severus stood and watched as the larger boy struggled and was unable to bring his head above the water to draw a lung full of air. It was at this time that the most amazing of things happened. A small figure in a yellow floral print summer dress dashed past the three boy on the bank and plunged into the water to the drowning boys rescue. The girl's blazing red hair blew in the summer breeze giving it the appearance of having a life all its own. All three boys on the bank found themselves suddenly gobsmacked by the interloper's actions.

Severus was so stunned by the petite girl's appearance that he forgot to hold the boy under the water and the girl was able to drag the drenched and gasping bully to shore. That feat alone was amazing considering the size difference between the two. The scrawny half-blood nearly gasped aloud when the girl looked up and glared at him with smoldering green eyes for a long moment before turning her withering gaze upon the other two boys in turn.

"What is wrong with you?" the girl yelled at the three boys standing there in stunned silence. "Couldn't you see he was drowning? Why didn't you go in after him?" the young redhead scolded them sternly as if she were an adult speaking to children much younger than herself. All three boys dropped their heads and stared at their feet. "Are you all daft or something?"

"Lily," called an apprehensive voice behind Severus, "we should be going. Mother is going to be quite cross with you for getting your dress all dirty as well as wet." Turning his head the young wizard saw another girl standing not far away with dark hair, a rather long neck and a disapproving demeanor as she regarded the entire scene, especially the four boys around her sister.

"Yes, Petunia," the wet girl, whose name was apparently Lily, replied even as she made her way towards her sister. "I suspect he'll be alright once he's had a bit to catch his breath," she paused to tell Severus, thinking him a friend of the boy who had been in the water.

"T…thanks," Severus stammered in way of reply as the small girl continued on. "Who…who are you?" he enquired in a mesmerized tone of voice as he turned about, his words stopping her in her tracks as she turned back to face him again.

The girl, who he guessed to be close to his own age smiled at him, her green eyes alight with something he had never seen before. "Lily Evens. That is my older sister, Petunia," the small redhead replied. "We just recently moved to the area. I hope that we all shall be friends."

"I think I should rather like that," Severus replied somehow, still entranced by the petite girl's sparkling green eyes and bubbly personality. A strange warmth of feelings, which he couldn't place a name to, seemed to well up within his chest. Being unfamiliar with the concept of love or what it felt like to be loved he had no way of knowing that he had just lost his heart to the small slender girl before him at that time.

With a slight tilt of her head she turned and continued on to her waiting sister before the both of them left together. Severus stared after them till they were gone from sight around a corner. He couldn't help but feel that he had witnessed something magical once again only this time it was in the form of a petite girl. One thing he knew for certain was that he most certainly wanted to see her again! It would be many years yet till he realized just how much he loved the little redhead named Lily. Sadly that knowledge would come too late to save her life.

The Potions Master of Hogwarts was broken from his reminiscing upon feeling the ring on his right hand grow warm, signaling that the Headmaster wished to see him. Having lost his appetite due to thinking of Lily, the head of Slytherin House rose and quickly made his way from the great hall and to the Headmasters office. It wasn't the thought of the girl that had cost him his appetite but rather the remembrance that she was no longer alive due to his own actions. Guilt was one of the best appetite suppressants there ever was. "You wished to see me, Headmaster?" he asked once past the gargoyle statue, up the stairs and through the door.

"Ah Severus," Albus Dumbledore said with a welcoming smile. "I hope I did not disturb your meal?" The aged wizard was seated at his desk with several scrolls laid out before him in a sort of haphazard arrangement. The Headmaster's ever present lemon drop bowl was present and as the lid was already removed the Potion's Master surmised that the room's owner had already been into the somewhat sour candies.

"I had just finished," Severus replied, figuring it was close enough to the truth that it really didn't matter. The potions professor absently wondered how large of a dent the Headmaster had put into the candy bowl. _The larger the dent the more troubling the information about to be imparted_ , he figured.

Albus motioned to a vacant chair which sat before his desk and waited for his Potions Master to be seated before he continued. "I called you here so that I might enquire into the progress of the potions I requested from you during the summer break."

"They are coming along nicely, Headmaster," Severus replied a bit confused by the enquiry. When they had first spoken of the potions it was with the understanding that they would not be needed till the following summer break. "They should be ready on time as requested." The plan was to set a trap for Voldemort over the next summer break when all the students would be gone from the school. Neither man currently in the room believed the Dark Lord was gone for good.

"Alas, I fear we no longer have the time to wait, my friend," Albus said in a weary voice as he tossed the latest edition of the Daily Prophet towards his friend, which landed on the desk directly before the Potion's Master who looked down and saw the front page article.

**Gringotts' Break-In Latest**

_"Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. "But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon."_

Severus quickly read the article over and it only took a moment for him to understand what the Headmaster had meant. "You can't possibly think of bringing it here at a time like this!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

In way of answer Albus reached into his robes and withdrew a reddish, multi-faceted stone which rested comfortably in the palm of one hand and set the Philosopher's Stone upon the desktop between them. "It would seem that we do not have nearly the amount of time I had hoped we'd have. If he can reach within even Gringotts then there is no safer place in all of Britain than within these walls."

"I am surprised that the Flamel's even allowed you to take it," the Potion's Master stated without removing his eyes from the stone before him. The stone had many abilities, among them being the Elixir of Life which is what they were counting on the Dark Lord wanting it for. Should Voldemort obtain the stone he would be able to return and would be near immortal.

"Once I explained the circumstances to Nicolas and Perenelle they were quick to see the wisdom in having the stone brought here," Albus explained. "Neither really wanted to be drawn into the conflict we both know is coming, my friend. If nothing else, with long age comes a greater understanding of how to pick and choose ones battles," the Headmaster stated with a small twinkle in his eyes.

"Then you mean to follow through with your plan?" Severus enquired finally looking up and meeting the gaze of the wizard across from him only to see the aged wizard nod slightly. "What of the students? Would you place them all at risk? You know as well as I do that _he_ would think nothing of merely killing them all to obtain what he wants. The risk is too great, Headmaster."

"I am well aware of his lack of compassion for human life, be it young or old," Albus replied, the twinkle disappearing once more from his eyes as he reached out and fiddled with the stone with one hand. "I do not however think that he will attempt to reach the stone while everyone is here. No, I suspect he will wait till the holidays when few students remain and fewer staff are present to stop him," the Headmaster explained his reasoning. "He has few resources and it will be easier to slip in a follower or two to retrieve it for him at that time."

Severus thought over the man's words for several long moments and could find little fault with them. It would be well like the Dark Lord to slip in, collect the prize and slip out again with no one the wiser. Severus was certain that the Dark Lord would take great pleasure in being able to pull off a stunt such as that directly beneath the Headmasters nose. "It does seem the sort of thing he would attempt," he grudgingly had to admit.

Albus nodded, having already determined this and hence having been certain that his Potions Master would come to the same conclusion and follow his lead. "This is why I shall need those draughts sooner than we had planned."

"I should be able to have them done by the time the student's leave for the holidays, though just barely," he added. "What of the others?" he enquired.

"Hagrid already has his guardian in place," Albus replied, "hence the warning for everyone to stay away from the third floor corridor."

"Are you certain it was wise to announce that, Headmaster?" Severus asked. "There are certain students, the Weasley twins come to mind, who might see that as a challenge. There are certain to be those who go seeking whatever is there."

Albus chuckled softly, the twinkle returning to his glacier blue eyes for the moment. "I am quite certain that once they open the door and see Hagrid's pet, he is fairly hard to miss after all, they will lose what little interest they have for the matter. I doubt they will think past the fact that Fluffy is the hideous death awaiting them and that he might actually be guarding something of importance. No, I feel certain they will simply believe we are housing an extraordinary animal for the time being."

"Professor Sprout's Devil's snare is coming along nicely though that may be due to it being in a cold and dark place, which is where it grows best," the Headmaster continued with thoughtfully. "Pomona has assured me that it will be ready in time though. The only problem she confided was that it would not be a full or as mature as she would have wished for it to be. Still, it shall have to suffice."

"Professor McGonagall is placing the final touches on her chess set as I understand it. I suspect that like you, she is none too happy with this turn of events," Albus offered as he leaned forward and secured a lemon drop before sitting back and popping the sour confection into his mouth. "Lemon drop?" he offered only to see the Potions Master decline with a shake of his head.

"What of Flitwick's contribution," Severus asked. "I thought he had something prepared as well."

"Yes, our Charm's instructor was very helpful and quite ingenious if I do say so myself, in regards to his piece." Albus chuckled thinking of the key and the feat of flying that would have to take place to pass that particular test. The fact that the keys were all charmed to resist any and all forms of summoning ensured that whoever it was would need to be an accomplished flyer. "He is ready to go whenever we're ready," Albus assured the man seated across from him. The Headmaster himself had enchanted the door the key was for to be as resistant as possible to the highest forms of magic.

"I still do not feel that it is wise to have that beast within the room with nothing more between it and the students than a door," Severus stated once again to press home his concerns. "Should one of them gain entrance without realizing what was there the results would most certainly be less than pleasant, Headmaster. Should word get out that the beast if there I doubt that the Board of Governors would look kindly upon it."

"I am well aware of your concerns, my friend," Albus replied calmly. "It would take a witch or wizard of exceptional ability to unlock that door." The Headmaster held up one hand to forestall the professor retort he saw coming. "However, if it will make you rest easier, I shall see to it that the door is hidden as well so that none of the students may accidently encounter it."

Severus nodded stiffly at the older wizard's words, realizing that was probably the best he was going to be able to achieve. Over the course of the last decade he had learned that once Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had made up his mind there was nothing to be done but to go along with it and hope for the best. "If you'll excuse me, Headmaster? I have a class to attend to," the Potions Master said as he stood and prepared to leave.

"Severus," Albus said in a soft and caring manner, "will you be alright?"

The dark haired wizard turned to regard the Headmaster with a schooled expression that betrayed no emotions what so ever. "Certainly," he stated, the word itself clipped and near toneless before he turned and proceeded towards the door.

"Perhaps it is important to remember," Albus offered up, his words causing the other man to pause with his hand upon the doorknob, "as much as young Harry may resemble his father and be James' son he is also Lily's child as well and bears her eyes." The Headmaster could do little more than sigh remorsefully as the Hogwarts' Potions Master left the room without another word.

**-oOo-**

Slipping into the boys' dormitory Harry made his way to the small desk next to his bed and quickly exchanged his _The Standard Book of Spells_ book for his copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger. Taking a seat, his hand retrieved an apple from within his robes which he absently bit into as he started to read over the chapter for today's Potion's class once again. He had already read the chapter several times and could nearly recite the components for the boil removing cream they would be making from memory without looking at the book.

_I've really been looking forward to this class_ , Harry thought to himself as the corners of his mouth curved upwards in a grin. _Taking ingredients and mixing them together to make something other than what you start out with is a bit like cooking_ , he told himself silently as he took another bite of the apple in his hand, mechanically chewing without actually tasting the fruit. He wasn't used to eating much more than an apple or its equivalent for lunch and sometimes dinner. Routines are a hard thing to break, especially when learned over the course of an entire life.

As a young child he had been placed in charge of cooking for the Dursleys. As soon as he was tall enough to see over the rim of a pan upon the burner his aunt lost no time in shedding the cooking responsibilities to her nephew. There had been several times at first where the small child had burnt himself from inexperience...scars he bore to this day upon his forearms as well as a rather nasty one on his chest from spilled hot grease. Instead of finding cooking a chore Harry had quickly come to love it. The prospect of combining ingredients to make something that not only tasted great but was also filling as well a wholesome was as close to magic as he could get at that early age. Anything more magical and it fell into the realm of ' _freakiness_ ' and would earn him a beating.

_Uncle Vernon and Dudley never once complained about my cooking_ , he reminded himself, taking pride in that fact. Harry realized that it was strange to want the praise of those that treated him the worst but that's just how it was. He didn't even begin to understand it but had figured it was just easier to go along with it rather than sort it all out. _The quickest way to make either of them happy was with good food. A happy uncle and cousin meant fewer beatings for me._ When he got right down to it, praise was praise and something he very seldom ever received from anyone.

It wasn't long till Harry's simple lunch was finished and he put his things away. The young wizard stood and, after pushing his chair in, shouldered his backpack and walked from the dormitory. On his way through the empty common room he paused long enough to drop the apple core into a waste bin before slipping out the door and heading along the Dungeon corridor. The lunch period was only half over so he wasn't surprised not to see anyone else in the hallways.

Following the map from the student handbook, Harry quickly found the correct classroom. Looking inside he wasn't surprised to see that he was the first there. "Seems to be a pattern," he mumbled aloud under his breath, referring to his always being first to class. The notable exception being his first Transfiguration class, which he planned to correct the next time he attended the class. He rather enjoyed arriving early as it allowed him to gather his thoughts and prepare.

The classroom itself was rather dim. There were small rectangular windows set high up upon the walls near the ceiling that allowed a measure of day light to filter in. The only other lighting was provided by the scattering of lit candles about the room. The front of the classroom was the furthest from the door and was situated upon an elevated section of flooring. Harry presumed this was so that all the students seated in the class would be able to see and hear the professor.

Making his way to the front of the class he moved along the seats, taking the fourth one in and placing himself in the center of the front row or as near as one could get. Each row held two work benches which sat three people each. After removing his text book from his bag along with his quill, ink well and parchment he hung his backpack from the back of his chair and then seated himself. As there was still some time before the class actually began he reached behind himself and extracted the book the Headmaster had given him concerning Accidental Magic. Opening the book before him he started to read.

Harry wasn't certain just how long he had been reading as he found himself rather absorbed by the contents of the book, but he realized suddenly that he was no longer alone. Glancing up he caught a billow of black robes out the corner of his eye as Professor Snape stormed to the front of the classroom and the waiting desk there, before seating himself behind it. Harry thought the Professor looked very much like an advancing storm cloud with the way his black robs billowed out behind him as he went.

"A little early aren't you, Mr. Potter," Snape asked in a slow drawl as he took the seat behind his desk and began shuffling papers and moving items about. From the man's actions one would have thought that someone had rearranged his entire desk in his absence.

"Perhaps, Professor," Harry replied a bit nervously. "I just wanted to make certain I wasn't late or missed anything. I've been looking forward to this class since I first read about it over a month ago," the young wizard confessed in an embarrassed rush before he could stop himself.

"Fascinating," Snape replied in a monotone voice without a hint of the usual excitement one who expect to hear when using such a word. "And why would that be?" the Potions Master went on to ask as he read over a paper before him.

"Well," Harry began only to quickly lick his lips nervously, "I've not been much good at anything all my life. A spot of weeding, a bit of cleaning here and there but not much else as my family tells it," he explained. "Cooking is the one thing I seem to be able to do rather well, Sir."

"There'll be no flambé or soup stock made in this class, Potter!" Severus snapped off irritated by the boy's reply. Potion brewing was an exacting science. To compare it to cooking was like comparing Leonardo De Vinci to finger painting as far as Severus was concerned.

"No, Sir!" Harry stammered in way of reply realizing he had offended the Potions Master in some manner. "I didn't mean to imply that there would be, Sir. Cooking is only similar in that you take ingredients and combine them to make something which is much more than the individual parts themselves. I thought potions would be the same way, is all." The young wizard's words trailed off as he hung his head.

Snape looked up for the first time and stared at the boy for a long moment, seeing nothing more than the dark mess of hair at the top of the boys head. _He is Lily's son_ , he reminded himself with a silent sigh. "Brewing," Severus offered as he looked down once again at the paper before him though he made no effort to read. "Potioneers do not _cook_ , we brew," he explained in a more even tone. "Try to remember that," he said.

Harry's head shot up and a trace of a smile struggled across his lips for a moment. "Yes, Sir," he replied sharply. "I'll see that I do." Before Harry could say anything further the Professor stood and with purposeful strides walked from the classroom.

Harry, not certain what to make of the man's behavior could only shrug to himself and return to the book he had been reading. It was only a few minutes more before other students began to arrive. With a resigned sigh he closed the book and replaced it in his backpack. Picking up his quill he inspected the tip of it before unrolling a new sheet of parchment and dipping the quill in his ink well. It was as he was dipping the tip of the quill that something severely jarred his elbow causing the ink well to topple and spill all over the blank piece of parchment.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there, Potter," said a voice that was becoming all too familiar to the young wizard who turned to look over his right shoulder to see who had bumped his arm. Draco Malfoy stood there with a sneer upon his pale face. "Sometimes it hard to see the things beneath us," he added with a contemptuous grin.

"Perhaps if you weren't walking about with your nose so far up in the air you might be able to see others a bit better," suddenly stated a female voice causing both boys to look to their side. Harry saw Daphne Greengrass with another girl he didn't know who had been the one to make the comment to the young Malfoy. "Something you might want to try sometime," the new girl, also in Slytherin robes, added in an off-handed manner.

"Watch your mouth Davis!" Draco spat, his face turning red with anger. The boy's grey eyes darted towards Daphne and it was clear to see that he bit his tongue on whatever else he wanted to say to the auburn haired Slytherin. Draco huffed and angrily pushed past the two girls to go join Crabbe and Goyle at another table further back in the room.

"Mind if we join you, Harry?" Daphne asked as she hung her backpack on the back of the chair next to his and began removing the items she would need for class before the boy could even answer.

"By the way I'm Tracey Davis," the other girl offered, leaning forward so that she could be seen around her friend. "I apologies for her deplorable sense of manners and not introducing us properly," Tracey said with her dark brown eyes sparkling playfully.

"I was getting to it!" Daphne replied indignantly as she took her seat and arranged her own scroll and book. "Tracey and I have been friends since we were small kids," Daphne explained. "Why I put up with her I'll never understand." Daphne added with a playful grin of her own.

Tracey snorted in a rather unladylike manner. "It's because you love me Dearie and you'd be simply lost without me there to help you."

Harry couldn't help but grin at their antics, realizing that they must be the best of friends to carry on in such a manner. A small part of him couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have a friend like that. "Harry. A pleasure," Harry said, offering a slight nod of his head towards the girl now seated on the other side of Daphne.

"Really!" Tracey exclaimed with an absolutely astonished look upon her face. "You're _The_ Harry Potter? The-Boy-Who-Lived!" Harry, completely taken aback by the other girl sat there with much the same look as a deer looking up only to see a descending dragon about to land upon it. One of Tracey's eyes, which were opened as wide as they could go, suddenly closed in a wink at him. "I think everyone knows who you are, Harry," she told him with a humorous grin.

Harry only then noticed that Daphne was struggling hard to hold back the giggles that desperately wished to escape her lips. The-Boy-Who-Lived shook his head in disbelief before asking, "She wouldn't be related to Zabini by any chance would she?" Harry recalled a very similar response from Blaise when he had introduced himself during their History of Magic class.

"Oi, I heard that Potter," came from behind him causing him to look over his shoulder at the dark skinned Slytherin boy who gave him a grin to show he took no offense at the question. "In the Wizarding world we're all related in some manner of another," Blaise offered with a slight shrug.

"Why am I not surprised to see you there?" Harry asked in a resigned tone suddenly realizing that he was supposed to be staying away from them. Glancing back to Daphne and Tracey and then to Blaise once more he quickly realized that they weren't going to leave him alone just because he asked them to.

"Hanging out with you, mate is far more fun than sitting around listening to Malfoy strut about like some prized gaming cock," Blaise said, leaning forward to be better heard. "Besides, I'm starting to enjoy how Davis here can always manage to turn Malfoy a lovely shade of red!" the boy's words left all of them grinning. "Seriously I think McGonagall should give you extra credit for it as I swear it must be some form of Transfiguration or something," he added shooting the auburn haired girl an infectious smile.

"It's a talent I seem to have been born with," Tracey replied as she flounced imaginary hair over one shoulder as hers was currently pulled back into a ponytail. "Some of us are just gifted!"

"Seriously though," Daphne said as she turned to regard the dark haired boy next to her, "we're not just going to leave off. We're Outsiders as Blaise said and so we need to stay together."

Harry regarded the blonde girl with the same pleading look he had in Charm's class. "Please, you really need to stay away. All of you do," he said to her, ignoring the other students coming in as well as the ones that had just taken the seats to his left. "It's not safe to be around me," he added in a quieter tone drawing looks of confusion from the other three Slytherins.

**-oOo-**

"Ronald hurry up or we're going to be late!" Hermione called up towards the boy's dormitory, uncertain if the redhead could hear her or not. The young Gryffindor witch had been seated at the table in the great hall waiting for her Housemate to finish his third plate of lunch when the boy recalled that he still needed his book for their potions class. The book in question was in his room. This in and of itself wouldn't have presented much of an issue if that hadn't meant a climb to the seventh floor and then all the way down to the Dungeons for the class.

"No need to throw a wobbly, Granger," Ron said as he stepped through the door to the dormitory. "I'm hurrying as quicklyly as I can," he offered in his defense as he descended the stairs to the common room for the Gryffindor tower slinging his book bag over his shoulder in the process.

The bushy-haired witch grabbed the boy by the arm and began dragging him towards the porthole. "Honestly Ronald, I don't know why I bother with you," she said in an aggravated tone as they stepped past the portrait and made their way towards the Grande Stairway.

"Honestly, I've asked myself that a time or two as well," Ron confessed as they started down the stairs. "Why do you keep after me?"

"Well," Hermione began a bit uncomfortably, releasing his arm and adjusting the strap to her school bag instead where it hung over her shoulder, "we're friends and that's what friends do isn't it?"

"I reckon so," Ron replied in a serious and thoughtful tone as they slowly worked their way to the fifth floor before having to wait for the stairs to adjust to where they needed to go. "If we're friends then," the redhead said hesitantly, "then tell me about this morning and why you were crying."

"Why should I?" Hermione asked, a bit surprised by his request.

"Friends worry about each other so it would only be right that I should worry about you," Ron told her matter-of-factly. "It's just not right to make a girl cry," he added a bit softer.

Hermione could clearly hear the genuine concern in the young wizard's words. "What happened this morning is between me and Har-," the witch paused catching herself just before saying Harry's name, "between me and the person it was with," she quickly corrected as the stairs snapped into place and they continued on.

"Hagrid?" Ron said with a puzzled expression trying to match a name to the sound he heard her cut off. "You had an issue this morning with Hagrid?"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed vehemently and without hesitation. "I barely know that man, though I should like to," she was quick to say in a thoughtful tone. "I mean how often is it you get to meet a half-giant?"

"He's a bit furry for me," Ron offered making a sour face as he recalled the burly man who had towered above all the first year students the other evening. "Not to mention big…and tall."

"Well of course he is," Hermione replied in a voice of utter disbelief at the boy's words. "What exactly would you expect a half-giant to look like?" she enquired as they reached the third floor.

"I don't really know," Ron replied honestly. "I've never really given it much thought."

"Perhaps you should then, Ronald," the witch beside him said in a knowing tone. "You have a brain, just learn to use it before you open your lips to speak. I can only imagine how Hagrid would have felt upon hearing your words!" she said glancing to her side and noticing the chastised expression on the boy's face.

Ron knew she had a valid point and hence he kept his mouth closed and tried to engage his brain as they made the second floor and started down to the first floor. While he wasn't certainly the brightest wizard of his age he also wasn't any slouch at it either. The trouble with the youngest male Weasley was that he seldom engaged his brain before he opened his mouth. He certainly was several steps above Crabbe and Goyle, though some might argue that wasn't much to brag about.

"Harry Potter!" the redhead suddenly exclaimed as they stepped onto the first floor and headed for the entrance to the Dungeons which was where their potions class was being held. "It was Harry Potter," he said again as he had suddenly recalled Hermione watching the Slytherin boy walk from the great hall yesterday at lunch. He hadn't thought much of it at the time but it had managed to stick in his memory somehow. Also, there weren't many names that began with ' _Har_ ' which he had clearly heard her start to say.

Hermione sighed heavily, her shoulders rising and falling with the heavy exhalation of air. "Does it really matter, Ronald? Even if it was Harry, that would make it a matter between him and me, I should think," she offered.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, using her first name in his concern for his Housemate. "You can't trust him! He's a snake and they're all evil! Not a good one in the whole lot of them," he stated with a trace of disgust in his voice. The young Weasley boy didn't like the familiarity he heard in his friend's voice when she called the Slytherin boy _Harry_. As he saw it no Gryffindor should be that friendly to a snake!

"Why can't I trust him?" Hermione suddenly asked in a loud and demanding tone, stopping on the stairs leading down to the Dungeons to turn and glare at the boy with her as her anger got the better of her. "He's The-Boy-Who-Lived! He defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! Just how can he be evil if he did that?"

Ron's eyes grew large in the face of the witch's unexpected anger. "He's a snake," he managed to squeak out barely, as if that explained everything. The boy could have sworn that Hermione's hair became bushier as if it were standing out on end as she clenched her fists beside her, growled once in frustration before rolling her eyes and turning to stomp off down the stairs. "Blimey, mental that one is," he softly said aloud to himself.

"I heard that!" came the angry clipped response down the stairs from him causing the redheaded boy to suddenly go a bit pale before he followed after the witch, catching up to her just as she reached the classroom.

Hermione entered the classroom and spotted two open seats at the front of the classroom and quickly made her way towards them. As she turned to slip past Lily Moon who was seated at the end of the table closest to the door she noticed that Ron was still behind her. With an almost resigned sigh she took the farther of the two seats that were empty, allowing Ron to sit between Lily and herself.

The bushy-haired witch took out her book, quill, inkwell and parchment and got ready for class. As she was doing this she couldn't help but hear the conversation next to her.

"Please, you really need to stay away. All of you do," said a voice Hermione instantly recognized. "It's not safe to be around me," she heard Harry say to the Slytherins he was speaking with.

"We're not shoving off that easily, Potter," Daphne Greengrass replied in a tone that left little doubt that she had made up her mind and would not be budged from her decision easily. "I'm not sure the reason that you think you're dangerous to us or that you need to isolate yourself. The fact of the matter is," the young blonde girl continued on not allowing the dark haired wizard a chance to say a word, "you don't understand how things work in Slytherin and if you stay by yourself you'll just get chewed up and spat out."

"Yeah, you need to at least give us a reason," Blaise said from his seat behind Harry.

Hermione's mind raced at a feverish pitch digesting what she had heard. _He's afraid of hurting them_ , she realized. _He doesn't want them around him either. Is that why he told me to forget about him? Was he afraid I would get hurt?_ The young witch pondered what she had learned and couldn't decide what the truth was. A part of her wanted to believe that Harry had sent her away for her own safety. The thought that someone could think of her as enough of a friend to do that on her behalf was just staggering. No one had ever cared for her that much before outside of her own family.

Yet there was still another part of the young girl who was desperately afraid of getting hurt yet again. It had only been that morning that she had been crying her eyes out on her bed because she had thought Harry wanted nothing to do with her. _But if he was trying to protect me_ …. Her thoughts which were spiraling out of control at her revelation suddenly slammed to a halt as with sudden clarity she reasoned out why he had rejected her. _He's afraid that the accidental magic will hurt me!_ Glancing to the side she realized that Harry must be afraid of hurting his housemates as well.

"It's just too dangerous for you to be near me," Harry told his housemates, unaware that the Gryffindor witch seated next to him heard as well.

"Silence!" a commanding voice rang out cutting off any further discussion or thoughts as the Potions Master of Hogwarts stormed into the room with his robes bellowing about him threateningly. "There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few...who possess the predisposition...I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death. If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry picked up his quill to jot down what the Professor was saying only to notice that due to Malfoy, his inkwell was empty.

"We can share," Daphne whispered as she set her inkwell between them.

"Thanks," Harry said without lowering his voice to a whisper as he moved the ink stained parchment and empty inkwell aside to make room for a new parchment upon which he could take notes.

"Mr. Potter!" Professor Snape said loud enough to gather the boy's attention. "This year's celebrity," he added with a disparaging drawl. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Snape snapped off.

The arm of the student to Harry's left went up so fast it startled the boy, causing him to glance in that direction. "Hermione," Harry mouthed in barely a whisper, surprised to see the girl seated next to him. The witches hand was up on the air and waving about frantically, signaling that she knew the answer. Seated next to her was the Ron Weasley, the younger brother of the twins. Harry didn't miss the threatening glare the boy was directing at him and quickly looked away.

Harry thought for a moment as he recalled reading about the items mentioned. "I believe Professor that powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood is used when making the sleeping potion known as Draught of Living Death," the dark haired wizard replied. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione's hand go down and a frown of disappointment appear upon her face. _I must have gotten it right_ , he surmised by her actions.

The Potions Master wasn't finished though. "Where would you look if I told you I wanted a Bezoar, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked as he walked over to in front of the boy and sat after conjuring a stool. Glancing down and noticing the spilled ink and stained parchment he vanished them with a wave of his wand so as to not get any of the spilled ink upon himself.

"I know Professor," Hermione exclaimed as her hand shot up in the air once again.

"I didn't ask you did I, Ms. Granger?" Snape said as his dark beady eyes darted aside to her for a moment. "Five points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know it all!" The young witch bit her lower lip as her eyes filled with tears at having lost her House points.

"I would look in the stomach of a goat, Professor," Harry quickly said to draw attention away from the witch next to him in the hopes of sparing her any further point deductions.

"And what is it used for?" Snape enquired, his gaze once more returning to the boy who drop his head in thought.

"If I remember correctly it is mostly for counteracting poisons or protecting you from them," Harry offered hesitantly.

"What is the difference between Monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asked continuing the line of questioning.

Harry's brow creased as he tried to recall the two. Beside him Hermione's hand once more shot up into the air and quivered frantically in a hopeless attempt to gather the Professor's attention. Try as he might he couldn't recall that there was a difference between the two. "I don't recall, Sir," he finally admitted, "but I believe Granger knows. Perhaps you should ask her," Harry offered only because he really wanted to know the answer now and he believed that would be the easiest way to get it.

"They're just different names for the same thing," the bushy-haired witch blurted out before she could stop herself. "It is also known as Aconite."

"That's twice now you've spoken out of turn, Ms. Granger," Snape snapped at the young witch. "See me tonight at seven for detention!" Heatedly Severus turned back towards Harry only to find himself staring into a pair of green emerald eyes which he hadn't seen in over a decade. The pallid skinned wizard's breath hitched in his throat for a moment as he recalled those eyes surrounded by a mane of vibrant red hair. "You have…" Severus just barely managed to stop himself from telling the boy before him that he had his mother Lily's eyes, "been reading I see," he quickly changed to. "Clearly fame doesn't preclude you from learning it would seem. Five points for Slytherin!"

Snape stood, the conjured chair vanishing as the Potion's Master climbed the three short stairs to the raised area of the flooring. "I hope you all wrote down his answers," he said only to be met by shocked as well as confused expressions from the class. "No? Pity," he intoned softly, indicating his indifference.

For class they were split up into groups to make a simple potion for removing boils. Snape made his way about the classroom as they weighed dried nettles and crushed snake fang, criticizing almost everyone but Harry and Malfoy. The class was brought to a screeching halt when the cauldron Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were using melted away spilling potion all over the Longbottom boy. In no time at all boils began to break out all over Neville's body and Seamus was directed to take him to the Hospital wing for treatment. The remainder of the glass passed without further incident.

Hermione was putting her book away when Harry rushed past behind her and quickly left the classroom. Turning the Gryffindor witch saw both Slytherin girls staring after The-Boy-Who-Lived with concerned expressions. "Ron, you go on without me. I'll see you at diner," she told the redhead next to her. Knowing that there was food waiting for him in the great hall was all the incentive the Weasley boy needed. Without a look back he quickly left the classroom.

Daphne zipped up her backpack and lifted it from the back of the chair to slip it over her shoulder when she looked up to find someone waiting to speak to her. "Granger," she said with an arched brow in question.

"Greengrass," Hermione replied in a very businesslike tone of voice with a small nod of her head. "Might I have a word with you in private," the young witch asked, her demeanor slipping slightly to reveal her nervousness.

Daphne regarded the girl speculatively for a long moment before she turned to her Housemates. "You guys go on ahead and I'll see you for diner," she told Tracey and Blaise who both glanced at the Gryffindor but then simply nodded and left.

"Perhaps here wouldn't be the best place," Hermione offered with a glance towards the Potions Master who was seated at his desk reading papers and apparently ignoring them.

Daphne nodded in understanding. "Library?" she suggested suspecting that the other girl would feel that to be a good place to talk openly. Seeing the Gryffindor witch nod in acceptance the blonde turned and lead the way from the classroom. Neither spoke as they made their way to the third floor and along the left corridor, to avoid the most horrible death in the right side corridor.

The two girls entered the library and Hermione quickly stepped forward and took the lead, winding her way through a series of bookshelves and walk ways till she stepped out into an area that held several tables for studying behind which were several rows of empty bookshelves.

"Alright, Granger, what's this all about," Daphne asked, removing her book bag from her shoulder and setting it on top of the nearest table.

Hermione paused but didn't turn to face the Slytherin girl. "You know, it's not really you," she said over her shoulder. "Harry, I mean," she added to clarify.

Daphne's brow shot up upon hearing Harry's name mentioned. "What do you mean?" she enquired, curious as to what the other girl knew that she didn't.

Hermione shrugged noncommittally, her small shoulders rising and falling. "It was right here," the bushy-haired witch said instead. "Last night when he turned all those books to pins."

Daphne looked past the girl at all the empty shelves and suddenly realized why there were no books on them. "How could you know that, Granger?" she asked, believing she already knew the answer.

Hermione turned around, her eyes cast to the floor as she played with the cuff of her robe. "I was here with him when it happened," she confessed. "It was all my fault," the young witch's voice broke as she once again fought back tears of guilt at what she believed she had done.

"What…what happened?" Daphne asked taking a step towards the emotional girl. It was clear that whatever transpired the girl before her felt it was her fault. Daphne had only heard that Harry had transfigured a bunch of books. She hadn't really asked for any further details as it really hadn't mattered at the time.

"Harry came and spoke with me last night right here. He wanted to know how to do the Transfiguration we had done earlier that day," Hermione explained. "I told him how I did it and what I thought needed to be done. I thought he understood it. I had my match with me so I had him try it."

Tears began sliding down the young witch's cheeks as she told her tale. "I don't know what happened. Maybe he lost his focus or maybe I didn't explain it correctly but the next thing I knew all the books were turning to pins and Harry," Hermione paused to draw a shuddering breath before she continued, "Harry was standing there and his eyes…they were rolled back into his head! When I touched him he just seemed to collapse and fall to the ground! Now he's afraid to be around anyone as he might hurt them and it's all my fault!" the young girl sobbed.

Daphne quickly crossed to the distraught girl and guided her to a chair, pulling one out for herself only after Hermione was seated. "So that's what happened," she said aloud as she reached into her pocket and withdrew a handkerchief before passing it to the still weeping girl who thanked her upon accepting it.

Once Hermione had calmed down a little she continued though she still couldn't lift her head to meet the other girl's eyes. "I went to see him this morning in the Hospital wing," she confessed. "He had a book on the table next to his bed about accidental magic. I'm not sure if that's what happened or if he was just doing some light reading," the young witch said, "But for him to be reading that right after what happened is too much to be coincidence, isn't it?" the bushy-haired witch asked as she looked up with a hopeful expression upon her face.

"If it was accidental magic then it really isn't your fault, Granger," Daphne told Hermione pointedly. "It's not like that is something that can be controlled or predicted after all." The blonde witch sat back and folded her arms across her chest as she thought for a moment. "I'm no expert on the subject but if it was accidental then it's really no one's fault, not even Harry's."

"I don't know anything about it really," Hermione said in a tone that clearly indicated she wasn't happy to admit that fact.

Daphne could tell by the other girl's tone that situation would be remedied shortly. "Did…did Harry tell you anything this morning?" Daphne asked hesitantly.

Hermione shook her head. "He just asked me if I had been hurt at all and then told me to stay away from him and that I would do better to forget about him."

Daphne chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment before replying. "Well that would certainly fit with your scenario about being afraid of hurting others. It would also explain why he's pushing me away as well as distancing himself from all his Housemates."

"Harry doesn't strike me as the type that would intentionally hurt others," the Gryffindor witch offered.

"Me either," Daphne had to agree. "I get the impression he would be just the opposite," she continued with as she thought about what she knew of the boy's past. She didn't know if those abused would grow up to abuse others or if they would be the exact opposite. In the case of the dark haired wizard she got the impression that he would never be abusive, though she couldn't explain why she felt that way.

Hermione's shoulders slumped slightly before she asked, "So how do we convince him of that?"

"I don't know, Granger, but I'm open to suggestions," the Slytherin witch responded with.

"Please, call me Hermione. You've seen me bawling my eyes out after all," the first year Gryffindor said.

Daphne smiled and held out her hand to the other girl. "My friends call me Daphne," she said as Hermione accepted the offered hand and shook it. The young witch found it hard to believe that she would actually be making friends with a Gryffindor. _If it wasn't for Harry we probably would have never spoken to each other_ , she silently mused as the girl seated across from her shook her hand. "I'll let you know if I come up with anything."

"I'll do the same," Hermione said as a watery smile appeared on her face. She had merely wished to tell the Slytherin girl what she knew and had never guessed that she would find in Daphne Greengrass a new friend. "I'm almost in here every night studying….if you ever want to study together," Hermione offered hesitantly.

Daphne smiled, her blue eyes sparkling warmly as she was certain she had made the correct decision in extending a hand to Hermione. "I think I would like that, Hermione." The Gryffindor's answer smile was just as bright and welcoming as her own.

**-oOo-**

Hermione Granger found herself back in the Dungeons and outside the door of the Potions classroom precisely at seven o'clock. Lifting a small hand she knocked upon the door, opening it only after hearing ' _Enter_ ' called from within. Stepping inside the room she turned to address the only other person within the room. "I'm here for my detention, Professor," she said bravely.

"Ms. Granger. Right on time," Snape offered with a small sneer. "I am glad to see you at least know how to tell time correctly even if you can't seem to follow instructions and remain silent in class."

"I'm sorry, Professor. It shalln't happen again," she assured him.

The look upon the Potion Master's face clearly indicated that he didn't believe her, however he chose not to pursue the matter. "Tonight you will be assisting in preparing ingredients," he informed her. With a wave of his wand directions for the proper preparation of spider legs, snake eyes and rat entrails appeared upon the blackboard. "You'll find everything you need over there," he told her pointing to a table that was off to one side. "I shall return in an hour to inspect your work," he said as he left the room. "I hope I won't find it lacking," he said in a tone that indicated there would be consequences if that were the case.

Hermione approached the table which faced away from the door and couldn't help but shiver in disgust at the piles of dead spiders and rats as well as a pile of dismembered snake heads located there. Behind her she heard the classroom door open and assumed it was the Potions Master come back to insure she had started. She quickly donned an apron that had been set there for her and reached for the first rat with a shaking hand.

"Right, then. So which do you fancy?" asked a voice directly beside her that she recognized yet startled her none the less. The young witched turned and nearly gasped at seeing Harry Potter standing beside her with an apron on. "I think I might be better at the rats than the spiders," he offered with a straight face.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" Hermione asked in a shocked and confused tone of voice.

Harry shrugged slightly, a guilty expression crossing his face. "It was my fault that you got detention so I thought I should come as well," he explained. "Besides, can't let you have all the fun," he added with a grin as he reached out and grasped the rat she had been about to take.

"What if Professor Snape comes back?" the young witch asked in a worried tone, turning to regard the classroom door briefly for a moment before turning back to stare at the young wizard beside her.

"Then I'll tell him the same thing I told you just now," Harry said. "What's he going to do, give me detention?" Harry asked causing them both to chuckle slightly.

"He said he would be back in an hour," Hermione offered. She couldn't believe that Harry had come to spend her detention with her. _He's only doing this as he felt it was the right thing to do_ , she kept telling herself. Still, a part of her added his presence here with her belief that he had sent her away for her own protection and arrived at the belief that just maybe Harry could possibly be a friend. _If I can just figure out how to get him past his fear of hurting others_ , she thought, realizing that would be easier said than done.

Harry nodded in understanding as he picked up a knife and sliced open the stiff rat to get to its entrails. Hermione watched in disbelief for a moment before picking up another knife and starting to remove the legs from the dead spiders. They both worked in silence for a while as they concentrated on the task at hand. Harry proved very adept with the rats, his years at cleaning chickens for cooking coming in handy. Hermione proved to be equally skilled with the spider legs once she got past being disgusted by the creatures. Sadly neither of them were proficient at removing the eyes from the snakes without squishing them.

"I best be going," Harry said as he realized that the hour was nearly up. "I wouldn't want Professor Snape to give you an additional detention on account of me," Harry said suddenly worried that very thing might happen if his presence was discovered.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione softly said, feeling the same warmth within her chest she had felt before when she thought that Harry and her could be friends. The young witch had to fight with herself to keep from reaching out and hugging the wizard next to her. She vividly recalled how Harry had shied away from her touch earlier that morning and didn't want to scare him away. _Take it nice and slow, Granger_ , she mentally schooled herself.

"This doesn't change anything, Granger," Harry told her matter-of-factly as he removed his apron and hung it up. "You need to stay away from me. It's not safe for you to be around me."

Hermione simply nodded without turning around so Harry never saw the slight blush upon her cheeks at his words. _He really was trying to protect me!_

**-oOo-**

Harry left the potions room more confused than when he had first entered it. He had gone to the Slytherin commons room after class to work on his homework. Fortunately for him it appeared that Draco and his entourage had gone to eat diner in the great hall which allowed him time to complete everything he needed to.

Once finished the young wizard had made his way to the great hall and grabbed a small bit of food for himself as well. Once again he sat at the end of the table away from everyone else. Glancing about he noticed that the other ' _Outsiders_ ' weren't present. Harry figured they had eaten and were probably off doing their homework as he had done. Slipping two apples into his robes, one for breakfast the other for lunch, he quickly glanced about to ensure no one had seen him filch the food. As he had done previously, Harry quickly stood and with his head down made his way from the great hall.

It was as he was making his way back from dinner that his feet seemed to lead him to the potions class. Harry realized that he felt guilty for mentioning Hermione during class which resulted in her receiving detention. It was that inner guilt that brought him to share detention with her even when the Potions Master wasn't present. Though they had hardly spoken to each other he had to admit that he had enjoyed spending the time with her. It wasn't often that he was around someone who didn't want to harm him or who didn't expect something from him. It was an unusual feeling to enjoy time with someone else…the last time was atop a moving train car with Daphne. This new feeling, enjoying another's company was what had the young wizard confused.

Walking down the hallways after departing Hermione, his feet took him past the entrance to the Slytherin common room and to the stairs leading to the first floor. Just as it was his guilt which brought him to the Potions classroom a similar guilt now led him to the third floor of Hogwarts and the doors leading to the Library. _What's the worst she can do?_ he silently asked himself as he took a deep breath and pushed his way through the doors and started walking down the aisle way leading to the front desk.

"YOU!" suddenly screeched a shrill voice. "Get Out!" Madam Pince screamed as she descended upon Harry like a vulture upon its prey as he neared the front desk. "I'll not tolerate the likes of you within my library," she declared as her fingers twitch, wishing to draw her wand and hex the boy before her to within an inch of his life.

Harry had survived countless tirades from his aunt of this nature and had long ago learned that like a storm, sometimes you had to let it blow itself out before you could get a word in edgewise. The young wizard simply stood there with his gaze cast down to the ground and waited for the gale to blow past. Well, he at least hoped it would blow over.

Irma Pince ranted and raved for many long minutes. Harry began to suspect that the woman could even give Aunt Petunia a run for her money. "What are you still doing here, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pince asked in a scathing tone after pausing to draw breath once again. "Didn't I tell you to leave this instant?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry finally said without looking up at the angry Librarian. "I wanted first to apologize for my actions. It was never my intent to damage any of your books," Harry tendered his apology in a remorseful tone of voice. "I have always loved and respected books. They have often been there to comfort me when I needed it the most," he told her truthfully recalling all the times he had lost himself in a good story after a particularly harsh beating. "If there is anything I can do to make amends for what happened I would of course be more than happy to do so."

The irate woman seemed to calm slightly at his heartfelt words of regret. Cocking her head to one side, much as a bird might do, she eyed him skeptically for several long moments as if weighing not only his words but also himself. "The Headmaster said it was a case of accidental magic," the Librarian said thoughtfully after several long moments. "Perhaps there is something you can do to help."

Over the course of the next hour Harry found himself untransfiguring as many books as he could. Once Madam Pince had showed him how to do it, the process was fairly simple. Harry changed a group of pins back into the books they had been and then placed them on a cart which he then used to wheel them over to the shelves they were to go on. Madam Pince would later return to properly organize them.

Harry was upon a ladder he needed to use to reach the top shelves and had turned to climb down so that he could get the next book when he suddenly found it thrust before him. Glancing past the offered book his eyes meet a pair of soft brown eyes which sat over a warm and friendly smile. "Hermione?" Harry said, his brow creasing in confusion.

"You looked like you could use some help, Harry," the young witch said in way of reply as she wiggled the offered book before him once more. Harry took the book and climbed partway back up the ladder in order to put the book on the shelf before turning around and accepting the next one from her. "I finished my detention and decided to come and see if there was anything I could do to help with the books," she added as she continued to feed him books from the cart. "I honestly didn't expect to see you here."

"Thanks," Harry finally said after several more books had made their way to the top shelf. Harry was both surprised and slightly pleased by the appearance of the young witch. He still was greatly concerned about his magic and the possibility that he could hurt Hermione, Daphne or the others yet a part of him that longed for companionship couldn't be fully ignored.

Hermione passed him the next book before replying with, "This doesn't change anything Potter," in a matter-of-fact tone of voice just as he had done down in the Potions classroom. Harry couldn't help but grin, her voice nearly an identical imitation of his own had been, as he slipped the book into place.


	8. Freedom

Theodore Nott was no fool. Growing up with a father who loved to use the Cruciatus Curse as a form of punishment saw to that rather quickly. To anger the head of the Nott family was to quickly find yourself upon the floor withering in excruciating pain. Theodore's father, Thomas Nott, was the head of their Noble House with powers of authority that were unquestionable and near god-like to the child. This point was sufficiently driven home at the tender young age of six.

The young Nott scion was seated at the dinner table with his father, eating in silence as he always did, fearful the wrong word would set his father off. The women of the Nott family, his mother and several cousins, ate after the males being of lesser standing according to the head of the Nott House. His father didn't want them sitting at the table with him, claiming that having to look at them spoiled his appetite. Still a child at the time he was indifferent to girls in general and could scarcely tell the difference between the genders. He well knew his father's dislike for the female members of the family. All who lived in the Nott Manor were well aware of this fact. So it was with no small amount of surprise that Theodore looked up at his mother's approach as the two males were eating.

The youngest Nott quickly glanced towards his father in trepidation, fearing the outburst that was to come any moment now. Thomas Nott was a rather large man who enjoyed his meals. He was not heavy set but neither could one properly call him thin either. His hair line was receding even while the rest of it started to thin, though it showed no hints of greying as yet. The man's square jaw seemed firmly fixed in place and his dark recessed eyes seemed to miss nothing. The head of the Nott family always gave the appearance of continually calculating everything about him. The past ten years, since the demise of his master the Dark Lord, had been very profitable for the seated man.

Dinner was one of the few times Thomas was both able to enjoy something he considered one of life's few pleasures, namely good food. It was also the only time of the day that he allowed himself not to be disturbed with the hassles of running the family business or the Nott family itself. It was due to knowing this that Theodore was certain an explosion of biblical proportions was imminent as he spied the approach of his mother.

"My Lord," Gertrude Nott intoned hesitantly as she halted several feet from the table with her head bowed submissively. Thomas has decreed upon assuming the Head of House position that no female member of the family was ever allowed to look up and meet the eyes of a male member of the family. The elder Nott firmly believed that women were good for only two things, birthing children and satisfying the lustful urges of their husbands. As both could be done in the bedroom and neither required any spoken words to be performed, a fact he rather appreciated as he preferred women neither seen nor heard outside of that room. It was believed this was also why his wife had a separate bedroom from his own, so that he had to see her as little as possible.

"What?" Thomas snapped in an annoyed tone without looking towards the waiting woman as he reached for his knife to cut another bite size piece from his steak.

Gertrude's eyes widened slightly as she saw her husband's hand move towards his wand which rested on the table next to him. It wasn't until his hand lifted the knife next to the wand that she swallowed heavily before wondering absently how her life had ever reached this point. It wasn't all that long ago that her family had been something far more.

Edda Meier was the third daughter of minor German nobility. Being the third daughter left her with few options once her older sisters were married off. When an offer of betrothal had arrived from the Bulstrode family from Britain, an old and prominent house, the girl's father had jumped at the chance to sell her off believing that the partnership would strengthen his own position. It was a mistake he would never know he made.

Six months after the wedding a mysterious sickness claimed the entire Meier line leaving Edda the sole heiress as the only surviving member. Darrien Bulstrode as her husband received the Meier family's wealth, lands and title. Shortly thereafter Gertrude had been born as Edda was already well along with the child at the time of her family's demise. On the night of her birth Gertrude was betrothed to the then five year old Thomas Nott to cement an alliance between the two families. The then young Nott scion, upon coming of age, claimed his bride and took her rather forcibly their wedding night. Gertrude was all of twelve at the time.

The young wife was fortunate not to conceive that time due to being so young. She quickly learned the various forms of contraceptive in secret so as not to supply her husband with the much sought after heir he so greatly desired. The girl was an extremely bright witch and soon realized that once a child was born of their union she would become expendable.

It was only by chance that Theodore was born. Gertrude had fallen ill with a sickness that she just couldn't seem to rid herself of. The illness drained her of strength and kept her confined to bed. It was during such time that Thomas came and forced himself upon her and the conception was done. Only the fact that she seemed to rapidly recover her health afterwards lead her to believe that the sickness had not been by accident but rather planned.

"I spoke with the healers earlier today," Gertrude informed her husband, a note of fear in her voice. She well knew that Thomas wished for another son so that he might strengthen his ties to other houses through marriage. Though there had been many attempts at siring another sibling the efforts to date had proven fruitless. The news she had received today she knew would not be well received. "They informed me that I would no longer be able to bear children," she said in a rush.

Thomas continued to chew the piece of steak in his mouth, swallowing it before speaking. "Is that all?" he enquired in a casual tone.

"Y…yes, Milord," Gertrude replied, a note of relief in her voice as she had feared that her husband would remove her from the family now that her usefulness was at an end. The thought of being separated from her son was heartbreaking, however she knew Thomas had the authority to do just that.

The head of the Nott family motioned to the empty seat on his left, across the table from the young Theodore. "Please, have a seat Gertrude," he said as he used his knife to trim another piece of meat from his steak before spearing it with his fork and popping it into his mouth to savior the rich flavor.

"Are you certain, Milord?" enquired the confused woman. Seeing her husband and lord nod once she quickly followed his orders and eased into the offered seat. Head bowed and hands clasped in her lap she awaited further instructions. The potion she had finally procured and ingested two weeks back had put an end to her fertility. It was the actions of a woman who had reached her limit and was tired of being ridden like a brood mare with no thought or consideration for herself.

"Take this," Thomas said evenly, offering his own steak knife to the woman once she was seated. With a look of continued confusion Gertrude did as directed and accepted the offered knife, holding it gingerly with one hand. The head of the Nott family reached over and lifted his wand, pointing it at his wife. " _Imperius_ ," he said in a calm and even tone as if he was merely discussing the weather. "I find I no longer have a need for you. Take the knife in your hand and from wrist to elbow cut as deeply as you can on each of your arms. Then return the knife to me," he said without a hint of emotion as he sat back and savored the moment.

Theodore watched in horror as the woman that gave birth to him did as instructed. Perhaps the most horrifying thing of the entire occurrence was that all the while his mother was killing herself she had a peaceful, almost serene, smile upon her face. Once the deed had been done the bleeding woman presented the bloody knife back to her husband who promptly used it to cut another piece of steak before popping it into his mouth.

At the young age of six Theodore suddenly understood that the man who he called father had complete and utter control over his own insignificant life. The man sitting at the table next to him chewing a piece of steak and watching his wife bleed out could end his life at any moment. Theodore lived only so long as there was a use for him. Silently the young Pureblood vowed that there would always be a need for him even if it only to see his father dead by his own hand one day.

Theodore blinked twice, returning his attention to the conversation at hand and wondering absently what had caused him to think of that moment from his youth. The brown haired boy nodded in agreement as if he had been paying attention to the blonde boy who sat next to him the entire time.

"We are both from old Pureblood families," Draco continued with what he was fast referring to as his ' _recruitment speech'_ , "as such it is in our best interest to band together rather than mingle with the likes of others here. Look around you, Theo. The half-blood and mud-bloods nearly out number us," the Malfoy scion said with a condescending sneer. "It's as my father feared, they'll let anyone into Hogwarts these days!"

Theodore cringed inwardly, hating to be called Theo by anyone. "So what do you want from me?" he asked softly as any child his age would have. The Nott scion had been well schooled by his father. His instructions had been to get close to the Malfoy boy and help him in any way possible.

Still, Theodore wasn't just any child. He was far wiser and smarter than the other eleven year olds in his class. Rather than seeking out Draco he had allowed the boy to come to him. This served to set them as equals. Had he sought the blonde boy out first it would have regulated him to the same sub-servant positions of the Crabbe and Goyle boys. Theodore barely managed to repress the shiver of revulsion at the thought.

"For now, nothing much," Draco told him, a bit surprised at how easy it had been to enlist the boys allegiance. "Try and recruit others to our cause," he explained to the youngest member of the Nott family. "Avoid associating with those who are not like us."

"…and if they will not join?" Theodore asked, already knowing the answer. As first years there wasn't much they could do to those older than them. For now they would be forced to limit their actions to those within their own year.

"For now we leave them be but they will pay when the time is right," Draco replied with an edge to his voice that would have made men far older than himself shiver in fear. "Their time will most certainly come!"

"What of the Greengrass girl," Theodore enquired having seen the dressing down Draco had received at her hands the day before. In truth the Nott heir knew this to be a sore spot for the Malfoy youth and he just couldn't resist the chance to pour salt into the already bleeding wound. His father had confided in him that Malfoy senior was attempting to force a marriage contract from the Greengrass family, a contract between the two blonde Slytherins.

"My father is taking care of her," Draco replied with a snarl of frustration at the boy's question. The young Pureblood quickly schooled his features, however an air of pride adorned his features when speaking of his father. "Once she is mine then she will amend her ways," he added to indicate that there were other plans afoot for the girl in question. "Leave her be or answer to me," Draco threatened in a menacing tone.

Theodore glanced discreetly down the breakfast table at the blonde girl who sat conversing softly with the auburn haired witch Davis she was always in the company of. _I'll need to write home to father concerning this as well as Potter it seems._ The head of the Nott family had made it very clear that he wanted to be kept abreast of any plans the Malfoys might have. _I'm certain that it will all play into Father's plan in some manner_.

"Understood," he replied to the Malfoy boy in a neutral tone as he maneuvered a fork full of eggs into his mouth. It was not the Nott family way to do things themselves if they could help it. Far better to let others do the work while remaining unobtrusively by their side. Theodore's father had told him that the Malfoys had the money and influence for the time being, however should that change then the Nott family would quickly step in to fill the void their demise left. The only remaining question was whether that demise would be by the Malfoy's own hands or assisted by the one right next to them.

**-oOo-**

"So Herbology this morning and then our first flying lesson this afternoon?" Tracey Davis asked her friend for confirmation as she took a sip of her morning tea. She wasn't sure how other students managed to stomach the pumpkin juice served at every meal. She personally felt the liquid was vile and should be tossed out. She preferred tea or even coffee to the swill being guzzled by the majority of the student body. Idly she couldn't help but wonder just what was in each of the cups and glass situated before each staff member at the head table.

Daphne nodded as she quickly swallowed the food in her mouth before replying. "You did read the chapter last night like I suggested didn't you?" Seeing her childhood friend hastily take a fork full of eggs and stuff them in her mouth quickly followed by a bite of toast was all the answer she needed. "Tracey! How do you expect to get good grades if you don't apply yourself? You're so smart if you only worked a bit harder at it you could be at the top of the class," Daphne scolded her.

"Not all of us have a desire to be at the top of the class," Tracey said around the remainder of the food in her mouth which was stuffed into one cheek giving her a slightly chipmunkish sort of look. "Honestly Daphne, this is our first week. Isn't there some sort of rule about holding off on applying one's self till after fourth week or something at least?"

The blonde Slytherin girl rolled her eyes in exasperation at her friend. "Tracey, with you fourth week quickly becomes sixth week which then makes the short leap to next term and before you realize it the year is over with!"

"When's the last time you ever heard of anyone failing first year?" Tracey asked with an arched brow and a pointed stare, certain she had won the discussion as to the best of her knowledge no first year student had ever failed to move on to second year. It was like there was some unspoken golden rule that students weren't allowed to be failed.

Daphne snorted in disbelief at her friend's argument. "So you mean to become the first then do you?" The blonde Slytherin shock her head in disbelief. "Just because you've never heard of someone failing doesn't mean it hasn't happened. It's not like the school would advertise something like that as it would give the appearance that they couldn't do their jobs correctly," she explained to her Housemate.

"That's not what I meant," Tracey replied defensively. "Herbology is all about lectures and reports this year," the auburn haired witch continued with. "It's not like I won't have time tonight to read the chapter. Astronomy class isn't till midnight after all. It will give me something to do in order to stay awake," Tracey said with a sad pout in an attempt to appease her friend.

"Look, the point is that you shouldn't allow yourself to get behind. Once you do that it's all downhill from there and you'll never get caught up," Daphne tried to explain to her dearest friend while ignoring the infuriating cuteness of her friends pout. "I just want to see you do the best you can is all."

"Come on, I want to stop by the library before going to class," Tracey said as she got to her feet, slinging her book bag over her shoulder and effectively ending the argument. "I've heard so much about what Potter did to the books that I want to see it with my own eyes."

"Fine," Daphne replied with a heavy sigh. It was not the first time the two girls had this particular conversation. Daphne worked hard and studied even harder for her good grades. In contrast Tracey did as little as possible and yet still managed to pull in rather good grades. In truth the ease at which her friend managed it Daphne found extremely frustrating. She was certain that should Tracey really work at her lessons she could be head of their year or at least second to herself and Granger who seemed to tie often.

They walked side by side from the great hall and then out to the grand staircase for the trip to the third floor. Tracey had a smile on her face while Daphne frowned, displeased by her friend's refusal to apply herself properly.

"Tell you what," Tracey offered as she slipped her arm through Daphne's and pulled the slender blonde girl close against her side, "I'll read two chapters tonight which will put me ahead for next week."

Daphne's answering smile brightened the stairwell, or so it seemed to the auburn haired witch. "You promise? No taking it back," the young blonde witch asked as she held out her pinkie finger to her friend.

"I swear," Tracey replied with a smile as she stuck out her own pinkie and wrapped it around the other girl's in a pinkie promise.

"What do we do with pinkie promises?" Daphne asked as part of their age old ritual. For as far back as either of them could recall they had always tied their promises to each other in this manner. While some might think it childish to still be doing it at their age, neither really cared what others thought hence it was a moot point.

"We keep them," Tracey confirmed before releasing the small finger entwined with hers, glad that Daphne was smiling once again. They were so close to one another that it was an unwritten rule that if one was down it was the responsibility of the other to raise their spirits…by any means possible. _A smiling Daphne is my favorite Daphne of all_ , Tracey mused to herself.

The two girls made their way up the shifting stairways to the third floor. "Why the sudden interest in what Harry did?" Daphne asked as she glanced at the portraits without any real interest. It felt nice, just the two of them. _So long as I have Tracey with me I know everything will be alright._

"Oh so he's ' _Harry_ ' now?" Tracey teased her friend with a mischievous grin as she tightened her grip on the other girl's arm so she couldn't pull away.

"Stop avoiding the question Davis and just answer it," Daphne countered with, deftly deflecting the question aimed at her in the process. _It's always been Harry, hasn't it_ , she couldn't help wonder silently to herself. _Well, that is his name after all. He did introduce himself to me as Harry when we were atop the train after all_ , she reminded herself.

Tracey shrugged slightly as they walked along the library hallway. "I don't know. I couldn't sleep last night and so got up to go downstairs to read a bit," she confessed to her friend. "I still haven't gotten adjusted to being here I guess. I figured a page or two of _The History of Magic_ should be sufficient to put anyone into a coma induced slumber." Both girls chuckled in agreement. "I curled up on the couch in front of the fire and there he was."

"Who? Har….Potter?" Daphne asked after quickly using Harry's surname to avoid further ribbing from the girl with her.

Tracey smirked at Daphne's slip but decided not to comment on it. "Yeah. You know the small couch tucked into the fireplace off to the side. Well he was curled up on it, fast asleep." The young witch decided not to mention how she had gone and found a blanket for the sleeping boy or how she had gently tucked him in.

"So what did you do?" the blonde witch enquired, a note of anticipation in her voice.

"What do you mean ' _what did I do?_ ' I read a few pages and then went back to bed," Tracey retorted with, shooting the girl next to her a questioning look only to see her shrug dismissively. They both walked a short ways before passing into the library itself. "He's kind of cute when he's sleeping," Tracey admitted in the hushed tone that people usually use when in a library.

"WHAT!" Daphne exclaimed in disbelief earning her a reproachful glare from Madam Pince as well as a hushing motion from Tracey next to her. Daphne quickly turned and headed to the area with all the missing books. "It's over this way," she offered over her shoulder in a soft tone.

"I mean he didn't snore nor do any of the other disgusting things boys typically do," Tracey clarified as they wound their way through the shelves of books and scrolls. "How do you know where it happened?" Tracey asked suddenly realizing what her friend had said.

"Granger and I came here yesterday when she wanted to talk," Daphne told her friend. "We're going to start studying together," she hastily added before Tracey could ask what the talk was about. Considering the ribbing she was already getting from Tracey she wasn't about to tell her that she and Hermione had come here to talk about Harry.

"Oh, I want in on that!" Tracey quickly exclaimed. "With the both of you studying together you'll make the rest of us look like befuddled fools! Maybe we should see if Blaise and Harry want to join as well," Tracey suggested off-handedly.

"I wonder what he was doing sleeping there instead of his in his bed," Daphne asked rhetorically as neither of them knew the answer to her question. "Maybe he fell asleep while doing his homework," Daphne hazard as a guess.

The auburn haired Slytherin smirked, realizing that her friend had not even heard her suggestion of inviting the two boys to the forming study group. _I guess I'll just have to do it myself then_ , she surmised. "Not unless he's taken to doing his homework in his pajamas," Tracey offered. "He was clearly dressed for bed." Both girls looked at each other, uncertain what to make of that fact.

Daphne chewed the inside of her cheek as she pondered what Tracey had said. _I certainly didn't see him there this morning_ , she thought to herself. The blonde Slytherin had risen earlier than normal and was one of the first ones down to the common room. She had used the time spent waiting for Tracey to join her to read ahead in her Herbology book. _That means he must have gotten up even earlier than I did or maybe he woke during the night and made it up to his bed_. She hoped it was the latter of the two as a she was fairly certain that a night spent on the small couch near the fire wouldn't have been comfortable.

Tracey gave a low whistle as they stepped out from between a row of shelves into an area obviously meant for studying. There were several tables evenly spaced about the area, all of which were laden with books currently. Even the chairs around the tables had been pulled out and had books piled upon them. Beyond the currently unusable tables were tall empty bookshelves made of dark sturdy wood. "That's a lot of books," Tracey said in a slightly awed tone of voice.

"There are several rows of shelves that are empty currently thanks to Harry," Daphne said with a small smile of admiration at the boy's ability, be it intentional or accidental. _Those weren't there yesterday_ , she silently thought, eying the tables piled high with books as she led her friend towards the still empty shelves. "It's amazing he could so much damage in so short an amount of time," Daphne said with a humorous grin.

"I bet Madam Pince was beastly over it," Tracey said with a chuckle as she followed her Housemate.

"She was more than a little put out," said a distinctly male voice just before a dark mass of hair and emerald eyes peeked out past a tall stack of books on the table nearest the empty shelves.

"Harry!" Daphne gasped in disbelief and slight embarrassment from talking about the boy without knowing he was about.

"What brings you here, Potter?" Tracey asked without missing a beat though her cheeks were a bit pinker than normal as she had been gossiping about the boy as well.

Harry shrugged slightly as he replied with a small smile, "Restoring the books my accident caused," he told them. "Sorry if you needed one of the books from there," he added, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the now empty shelves. "I should have them all restored later tonight I think," he told them in a hopeful voice.

Daphne couldn't look the boy in the face for some reason. While they probably weren't the first to come to see the devastation to the Library's parchments, scrolls and books caused by Harry, she wasn't comfortable telling him that was why they were there. If it was her, she knew that she wouldn't enjoy the notoriety that such an accident was sure to bring.

"I wanted to see what all the fuss was about and dragged Daphne with me," Tracey spoke up, sensing her friend's uneasiness. "I'll say this, you sure know how to call attention to yourself, Potter!" Tracey realized it was the wrong thing to say as the smile on the boy's face disappeared in a blink of an eye only to be replaced by a look of embarrassment.

"Come to laugh at me as well? Might as well," Harry said in a quiet and even voice, "everyone else has. Sorry I can't stick around to amuse you as I best get back to work," he said turning away before either stunned girl could reply.

"Harry we didn't mean…I mean it wasn't intentional…," her words trailed off as none of them seemed to be the right thing to say. "If you'd like we can wait and walk to class with you, Harry," Daphne finally offered as she watched him turn away with a sad look on his face.

Harry paused and glanced at the two girls. "No. I can find it myself. Thanks," he told them before grabbing an armful of books and disappearing back into the maze of shelves to put them away.

The two Slytherin girls looked at each other and sighed dejectedly before turning and retracing their steps to head to class. They both knew that they may have inadvertently caused the young wizard to withdraw from them further when they were working to draw him out of his shell. "Well, that couldn't have gone any spectacularly worse," Tracey quipped. Daphne could do little more than silently agree, wondering what to do now.

**-oOo-**

Harry walked down the rows of empty shelves till he reached the last one and then turned and started placing the books in his arms upon the next available shelf. _It's not bad enough that everyone wants to gawk at The-Boy-Who-Lived, now they also want to see the_ freak _that turned all the books to pins._ In his mind he could hear his uncle Vernon's voice spitting out the word _Freak_ just as clearly as if the man was standing there in front of him.

Harry sighed, wishing not for the first time that he was back home, safe and secure in his cupboard under the stairs. Life there hadn't been perfect but it was all he had known as opposed to here where he knew next to nothing and no one. Between a choice of the known and the unknown he did as most people would do and longed for what had passed for his ' _normal_ ' life at number four Privet Drive.

Last night, with the assistance of Hermione, he had started transfiguring books back from the pins that he had transfigured them into when his magic had slipped his control. They had worked in relative silence the entire time till Madam Pince came by to inform them that it was nearly curfew time and they should hurry on to their Houses.

Though they spoke very little, Harry still felt like it was a wonderful time. He had never spent so much time in another person's presence as he had with the Granger girl. _It was almost like we were friends just hanging out_ , he mused before grinning as his own foolishness. _Friends aren't to be trusted_ , he reminded himself with a slight shake of his head.

The one time he had thought he had a friend had ended in disaster. Still, even in the short amount of time he had spent at Hogwarts he had seen others sitting about laughing, talking and giving every indication of enjoying themselves. _Is that what friends do?_ he wondered. _If I had a friend would I be able to talk to them? Would they make me laugh?_ Sadly the bespectacled young wizard realized that even if friends could be trusted he had no clue what to do with one or how to act around one.

Growing up he had seen how Dudley and the boys that hung around his cousin acted. It was very similar to how Draco was with Crabbe and Goyle. Dudley was the uncontested leader and the others marched to his tune or faced the consequences. _If that's how it is to have friends I'm not all that certain I want any part of it_ , he told himself. _I'd have to be severely mental to be ordering others around and treating them like Dudley does his friends!_

In his world there were those who had and then there was him. Others had clothes that fit correctly. Not him. It was for others to have family that loved and cherished them. Not him. _If others truly do have friends then certainly I shouldn't_ , he was left to reason. _My world may be lonely but it is one I know well_ , he thought to himself feeling a measure of security from the knowledge of what equated to normal in his life. _My life may not be perfect but then again whose is?_

Still, he had certainly found the time spent with the young Gryffindor witch last night enjoyable. Sadly it was the very time spent in the presence of another that had made him realize just how lonely his life truly was. It took being with someone to realize that he had been kept separate from everyone else his entire life. While it was safer to be alone it was that just as well…alone.

It was with those depressing thoughts playing within his head that he had entered the Slytherin common room and made his way to the first year dormitory. After removing his robes and changing into his pajamas he had pulled back the covers of his bed and was just about to jump in when he had smelled something which forestalled his enthusiastic leap onto the mattress.

Harry reached out hesitantly with one hand while holding the covers aside. His questing fingers encountered a thick wet substance. Raising his hand he took a tentative whiff of the sticky substance and from the earthy scent deduced that his bed was full of mud. _I guess it could have been worse_ , he told himself at the time as he wiped his hand off on the sheet and allowed the covered to drop back into place.

It didn't take long to determine that the sheets as well as the blankets were in shambled and couldn't be salvaged. Fortunately his pillow had managed to escape the lackluster prank. With a resigned sigh he had taken it and returned to the common room. As he was leaving the dormitory he was certain that he had heard several hastily hushed snickers and whispers behind him.

Growing up with his cousin Dudley, pranks of this nature were common occurrences. _This one was actually kind of amateurish_ , Harry thought to himself as he retraced his steps to the Slytherin common room. There were still several of the older students in the room either chatting or working on assignments. Harry quickly crossed to the small couch near the fire and curled up and went to sleep. When he had awakened in the morning it was to discover that someone had tucked him in with a warm blanket. _Some people prank me while another tuck me in_ , he pondered with a slightly bewildered, slightly amused, look upon his face.

Harry shook his head, all the more certain that he didn't understand other people, as he slipped the last of the books onto the shelf and turned to retrieve more only to find a bushy-haired witch with an armful of books blocking his path. "Hermione," Harry said, more than slightly surprised at seeing her there.

"I thought I might find you here," the young Granger girl said matter-of-factly. Harry shrugged non-committedly. "Rough night?"

"Something like that," he admitted sullenly as he relieved her of most of the books in her arms and started to place them on the shelf next to the ones he had just deposited there. "Did you eat breakfast?" Harry asked in an attempt to change the subject not really wishing to discuss the events of the previous night and his sleep accommodations.

"I did," Hermione replied with an abrupt nod of her head, "Did you?" Harry's stomach suddenly let out a rather loud growl causing the boy to blush in embarrassment. "I guess that answers that," the young witch continued with as Harry relieved her of the remainder of books in her arms. "I brought you an apple," she said as she held out the fruit she had just taken from a pocket in her robes. "You can eat it on the way to class...which if we leave right now we should just be able to make in time."

"Thanks," Harry offered as he hesitantly took the red fruit from her hand. "Let me get my bag," he said as he stepped around her to go and retrieve his backpack from where he left it at the tables. The two of them left the library together and walked in silence as they descended the stairs, though this could be due to Harry attempting to finish the apple she had given him before they reached the greenhouse where their class was to be at.

"Did you read the chapter for today?" Hermione asked, being sure to keep the questions answerable with nod of a shake. Seeing Harry nod brought a smile to the young witches face as she found the boy to be more like herself each time they spoke. "I've read ahead several chapters actually. I can't wait till we learn about Devil's Snare and the _Incendio_ charm," Hermione prattled on as they descended the stairs and made their way outside. The young witch continued on as she spoke about the other plants and spells they would be covering for the year, content to carry the bulk of the conversation.

Harry, for the most part was content to walk beside the rambling witch and simply listen to the sound of her voice. While most eleven year old boys would never admit to enjoying the sound of a girl's voice or the pleasure of their company, Harry was most certainly not your typical eleven year old boy. He was more than content to allow her to continue as it meant that he himself did not have to speak. Given his recent feelings of loneliness being with someone was just what he needed at the moment.

"I'm rambling aren't I, Harry?" Hermione suddenly asked catching the young wizard by surprise as they reached the first of the greenhouses. "You can tell me if I am. I don't mind really," she said to assure him. "My Mum and Dad say I ramble, but it's just so seldom that anyone is willing to listen to me," she tried to explained to him, her hands moving animatedly with every word she spoke.

"Most people stand and just stare at me for a moment or two before they say they have some appointment or previous engagement they need to attend to and hurry off," Hermione told him with a trace of pain in her voice. "Those that do stay really have no clue what I'm talking about usually. So, please do tell me if I ramble on," she reiterated once more as she looked towards him, imploring him with her brown doe-like eyes.

"N…no," Harry stammered, suddenly finding himself in uncharted waters without a life raft or any other means of saving himself. In desperation he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I really like the sound of your voice so please don't stop."

The young petite witch stopped dead in her tracks at his words causing him to pause as well. Turning he saw the shocked look upon Hermione's face and he suddenly feared he had offended her in some manner. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said that?" Anything further he was going to say was suddenly halted as he found himself with a face full of bushy brown hair that smelled strangely of strawberries and his arms filled with the petite slender Gryffindor witch. Harry froze in fear as a pair of slim arms were wrapped around his shoulders and hugging him tightly.

Hermione suddenly realized what she had done and jumped back releasing Harry from the hug she had thrown on him impulsively. "Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," she stammered, recalling how he had shied away from her touch before. "I wasn't thinking," she tried to apologies, fearing that her actions would push him away from her once again. "I know you don't like me touching you. I just couldn't help myself. No one has ever said that to me before. Not even my Mom and Dad. I'm a hugger….it's what I do," she finished with as her shoulders rose and fell in an apologetic shrug.

Harry stared at the Gryffindor witch nervously chewing her bottom lip as she anxiously regarded him with watery eyes. The shock of the sudden contact was slowly easing away. When he had been grabbed his first reaction was to brace for a beating. The fact that no beating came left him more confused than anything. "It's alright, Hermione," Harry told her, forcing a small smile to his lips. Seeing her still eyeing him with a half frightened expression he turned away. "Come on. We'll be late for class if we stay here much longer."

That got the young witch moving once again. The fear of breaking the rules was something the young girl wouldn't do willing. They walked along for a bit in silence before Hermione tried once again to apologize for her actions. "Harry…?"

"It's alright. Really Hermione," Harry told her with a genuine grin, feeling that she was more shaken up over what had happened than he was. "I don't know what that was you did back there," he told her as the door to the greenhouse their class was to be held in came into view, "but it wasn't bad. It was sort of nice," he finished with a bit flustered by the admission, his emerald eyes never leaving the ground in front of his shoes.

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione replied with a mixture of relief and disbelief in her voice, "you act as if you've never had a hug before!" she stated as she unconsciously brushed several errant strands of hair behind one ear in a nervous habit she tended to do when embarrassed. _He thought my hug was nice_?, she nearly squealed within her head. The young witch hadn't been able to hug a soul since saying goodbye to her parents on the platform at King's Cross station and she was starting to feel as if she was going through withdrawal. Giving and receiving hugs was one of her greatest pleasures in life. It ranked right up there next to books.

"Is that what that was?" Harry asked as he glanced towards her with a creased brow only to see her nod hesitantly, uncertain if he was having a go at her or not. The young wizard shrugged, returning his gaze to where he was going. "I haven't," he informed her of just before opening the greenhouse door and stepping aside for her to enter before him.

Hermione desperately wanted to question him further, however as many of the other students were already present she knew that doing so would only embarrass Harry. _I'll just have to ask him later then_ , she consoled herself with. Offering a small smile over her shoulder towards Harry, who was behind her due to holding the door for her, she found a seat on the Gryffindor side of the room and busied herself taking out her quill, inkwell and parchment. _Could he really have never been hugged before_? she wondered as she worked.

Harry noticed Blaise who was seated by himself at the back of the room and quickly slid into the seat next to him. _So that was what a hug feels like?_ he silently pondered as he got his things out for the class. He knew what a hug was as he had seen his aunt give Dudley plenty of them. He had just never received one himself in all him years living with his relatives. _I think I could grow to like them_ , he thought, his eyes unconsciously glancing towards Hermione who was setting out her own writing utensils.

"You ready for today, Potter?" Blaise asked Harry, his eyes sparkling with excitement as a small grin appeared on his face.

Harry opened his book to the first chapter before replying. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replied. "I've read the chapter over several times so I think I have a pretty good understanding of it."

Blaise chuckled softly. "What are you mental? I'm not talking about this class," he told the confused wizard next to him, "like I could care about a bunch of plants! We have our first flying lesson today, mate!"

The dark-hair Slytherin boy grinned good-naturedly, "I thought it was a little strange that you would be excited about class for once. I thought maybe you'd gone round the bend of something on us." Harry dodged the other boy's playful swipe at him before sitting up once more and shrugging dismissively at that afternoon's scheduled class. "I told you I've never ridden a broom before. Not sure I'll be any good at it."

"I over heard some of the fifth year guys talking about how they have races around the Pitch when it's not being used for Quidditch practice," Blaise informed him of with a board grin. "There is betting and everything!"

"What do you pitch?" Harry asked with a creased brow, certain he was missing something rather important by the look on the other boy's face.

"Not pitch, Pitch! As in where they play Quidditch at," Blaise clarified in an exasperated tone of voice that still had a heavy undertone of humor in it. "Did you get the book on Quidditch like I told you to?"

Harry arched a brow slightly. "Me. Books. Library. Hello!"

"Oh yeah," Blaise said with a crooked grin, recalling the recent incident in the library. "Then here," the dark boy said as he reached into his bag behind him and pulled out the book in question before presented it to the stunned Harry seated next to him. "You can borrow mine, mate."

"I couldn't possibly take yours!" Harry declared as he pushed the offered book away with the palm of one hand.

"Look, I've already read it twice," Blaise replied stubbornly thrusting the book back at the unwilling boy. "Just be sure to give it back to me when you've had a chance to read it over." Seeing the dark haired Slytherin hesitate Blaise pressed his advantage. "Really Harry, it's scary just how little you know of the Wizarding world you're a part of. Consider this homework to further your education. There isn't a witch or wizard alive that doesn't love the game!"

"Alright, alright," Harry relented. "I'll read it over but only so I'll have the slightest clue as to what you're talking about when you start pitching and catching things."

Before Blaise could correct him the door to the greenhouse flew upon as Ronald Weasley ran in and quickly took the vacant seat beside Hermione. Not a moment too soon it would seem as Professor Sprout stepped into the room, pausing to close the door which the redheaded Gryffindor had left open in his haste not to be late for class.

"I would greatly appreciate it if each of you could remember to make certain that the door closes behind you when entering," the Professor intoned as she walked towards the front of the class. "We try to keep the unwanted pollen and bugs out of the greenhouses as much as possible. Best you get into the habit now," she added with a pointed look at the Weasley boy, "while you're still new here."

Harry glanced over at the boy seated next to Hermione only to see his ears growing red with embarrassment. Harry could do little more than shake his head in silent sympathy, well understanding how it felt to be the center of attention. The blushing redhead caught him looking and shot a scathing glare in his direction. Hermione, seeing where her table partner was looking glanced back and gave Harry a soft smile before turning back to listen to the small, yet stout, Professor.

As soon as the class was over Harry bolted from the greenhouse and ran all the way back to the castle entrance. After stopping in the great hall long enough to secure an apple for his lunch the thin boy quickly ascended the staircases to the third floor and returned to the library. Flying lessons were not till later in the afternoon which meant that he could work at restoring the books he had transfigured. Sometime later as he was preparing to leave the library he felt confident that he should be able to complete the restoration of the missing books later that evening before his astrology class.

The several hours he had spent in the library had given him a great deal of time to himself, allowing him to think. It was with a heavy sigh of remorse that he realized he might have been rude to Daphne and Tracey earlier that morning when they had been in the library. _It's human nature to want to see what everyone is talking about_ , he reasoned. _It doesn't mean they were there to specifically laugh at me_. After so many others have come to do just that he had mistakenly jumped to the conclusion.

Though he hated it, he was realizing that there would always be those who would stare, if for no other reason than the scar on his forehead. There was very little he could do concerning his moniker of ' _The-Boy-Who-Lived_ ' he conceded begrudgingly. _What's done is done and there's nothing I can do to change it now._ _I'll have to apologize to them_ , he told himself, knowing he had been in the wrong and feeling miserable because of it. _I hope they aren't too mad at me. I guess all I can do is apologize and hope they'll understand._

Harry slung his book bag over his shoulder and left the library, running his hand through his hair as he walked down the hallway towards the ever shifting stairs. His ministration did little to improve the current state of his dark strands. Harry was so used to his unruly mass of hair that he wasn't even conscious of running his hand through it as he walked along.

_Once I get all the books restored then people won't feel the need to come and stare any more_ , he told himself. With all the work he had been doing with the pins he'd had very little time for doing any reading other than what was required for his classes. The young wizard really wanted to be in Madam Pince's good graces so he could hide away in the library and read to his heart's content.

As he made his way out of the castle along with several other first year Gryffindor and Slytherin students, he could see the rest of their class already gathered below. It was a clear breezy day, and the grass rippled beneath his feet as he made his way down the slightly sloping lawn towards the flat grassy area the lesson would be held at. Directly ahead of him could be seen the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the insistent breeze. "Well this should be interesting," Harry mumbled softly aloud to himself as he paused next to Blaise.

"Hey, Potter, try not to make too big of a fool of yourself," Blaise offered with a cheeky grin. "No need to give Draco's ego any greater boost. Any larger and I doubt he'll be able to fit through the common room door!"

Harry, like all of the first year Slytherins, as well as any others that would listen, had heard over the past day just how great a flyer the young Malfoy heir was. If everything the corn-silk haired boy claimed was true then he had been playing Quidditch since the age of four and had no fewer than three near collisions with muggle flying craft.

"Never flown before," Harry reminded the other boy drily. "I'll be happy if I don't break something," he said with a grin, "be it the broom or myself."

Madam Hooch, a slender witch with short grey hair and yellow eyes like those of a hawk, soon arrived and got them to stand in lines facing each other. "Stick your hand out above your broom," Madam Hooch instructed from the front of the group where she could keep an eye on all of them, "and say UP!"

Everyone yelled "UP!"

Harry was more than a little surprised when the wooden shaft of the broom smacked rather forcibly against the palm of his hand which he had held out above it as instructed. Glancing around he quickly noticed, with even greater surprise, that he was the only one to get it up on the first try.

"Well done, Mr. Potter!" Madam Hooch praised him upon seeing the shaft of his broom protruding from his hand. "Five points for Slytherin."

Harry watched as Hermione was having problems with her boom and couldn't help but grin when the young witch looked at him quite vexed at the easy manner in which he had apparently accomplished the task. _I guess she's not used to not being first_ , he thought amusedly while feeling rather proud of himself at the same time for being first for once. Looking to his left he was just in time to see Daphne get hers off the ground, rapidly follow by Tracey who quickly got a firm grip on her wiggling broom less it return to the ground.

Once everyone had their broom in hand Madam Hooch moved about the group showing everyone the right way to mount and sit their broom so they wouldn't fall off. Harry and Blaise were both chuckling when Tracey Davis barked a laugh at Malfoy's discomfort. Madam Hooch had informed the " _seasoned broom rider_ ' that he had been mounting and sitting his broom wrong all these many years.

"Now when I blow my whistle I want you to kick off the ground hard," Madam Hooch instructed them. "Rise up in the air a few feet then bring your broom back down by leaning forward slightly."

Suddenly, even before the whistle had blown, Neville Longbottom seemed to shoot up into the air. The frightened look upon his face clearly indicated that it was not a place that he wished to be. Despite several orders from Madam Hooch to bring his broom back down it continued to rise. As the entire class watched in horrified fascination the broom gave a violent shudder and the poor boy fell to the ground with a meaty thud. Madam Hooch was at the boy's side in an instant and proceeded to lead him towards the infirmary after issuing order that they were all to remain off their brooms till her return.

"Did you see his face," Malfoy chortled as soon as the flying instructor was out of hearing range. "The great lump!" Most of the other Slytherins joined in with laughter of their own.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" snapped Parvati Patil causing the blonde boy to laugh all the more.

"Oh, sticking up for the Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson was quick to quip. "I never thought you'd like the chubby and klutzy type, Parvati. Maybe it's just his Pureblood you're after?" Pansy added with a sneer.

Draco suddenly bent down and picked something up off the ground holding it out for others to see. It was a small round glass ball with gold bands wrapped around its axis. Harry, looking at the object had no clue what it was however he knew it wasn't Malfoy's.

"Maybe if he had used this he would have remembered how to come back down," Draco guffawed loudly causing him to receive a glare from the Patil girl and another round of laughter from several Slytherins.

For the rest of his life he would often wonder what made him do it. Try as he might he would never come up with a satisfactory reason for his actions that day. It was so contrary to everything he had beaten into him his entire life, yet standing there listening to Draco badmouth the boy who had just been injured was suddenly something Harry found considerably more than he could take.

Perhaps it was the very fact that he had been abused and put down his entire life. Knowing what that felt like he wouldn't wish that even on someone as mean and cruel as Draco or his cousin Dudley for that matter. Whatever the reason for it, hearing the laughter and the cruel comments of the blonde boy caused something to happen that never had before. Harry found himself truly angry at another person.

While the bespectacled boy accepted his lot in life and disliked his relatives he had never grown angry at them. Perhaps when he was very tiny he had as all small children have no control over their tempers but he didn't recall it if it had ever happened. Perhaps he was just too fearful of them to allow himself to feel angry when they beat him? He had long since given up trying to figure it out why he clung to his relatives and still craved their approval and attention. Here though was someone he could get angry at. Someone who was deserving of the rising fury he could feel building inside of him.

"Give it here, Malfoy!" Harry demanded, taking a step towards the other boy while holding out his hand for the object in question before he even realized what he had done.

There were several quick gasps and then shocked silence descended upon the group. Malfoy jumped on his broom and shot up into the air several feet before anyone could stop him. "If you want it come and get it Pot-," the blonde boy had to hastily move to one side to miss being knocked from his broom as Harry shot past him at a far greater speed than Draco had managed.

Harry paused, turning his broom on a dime with nary a thought as to how to do it. "I said give it here, Malfoy!"

"Want it for yourself, do you Potter?" Draco sneered as he tossed the glass sphere from one to hand to the other. "I think I might leave it someplace for Longbottom to find," he said loud enough for all to hear. "Maybe in a tree," he added with a wicked grin.

Harry sat astride his broom, noting that the other boy hadn't listened to Madam Hooch and was still seated incorrectly. "Give it here or I'll knock you from your broom and take it, Malfoy," Harry stated in the calmest of tones. "There's no Crabbe or Goyle up here to back you up. It's just me and you," he added in a softer tone of voice so that only the other boy could hear him. Harry noticed with satisfaction as Draco's grey eyes fearfully darted about as if suddenly realizing that fact as well.

Draco tried to play it off with a laugh but he couldn't ignore the shiver of fear that made its way down his spine. "Fine, if you want it so bad then go chase it!" the young scion exclaimed before he turned about and threw the glass object as hard and as high as he could. Harry zipped past him, the force of his passage unseating Draco who only just managed to grasp hold of his broom and was left dangling there until he could coax the broom low enough for him to drop to the group.

Harry shot past the prat completely unaware that he had actually unseated the boy and left him hanging in the air amidst howls of laughter from the Gryffindor members. Harry watched the glass sphere as it arched through the air and it seemed as if time slowed. In a split second he knew where the ball would land and adjusted his course dropping low to the ground as he pushed the old broom to accelerate even more. At near breakneck speed he shot along the ground, the wake from his passing parting the grass like the bow of a ship before leaving it whipping about crazily behind him. Suddenly the dark-haired Slytherin pulled up upon his broom coming to a sudden halt before spinning about and easily catching the thrown object.

Harry couldn't help the triumphant grin that appeared upon his face as the object thudded into the palm of his outstretched hand. Flying was the single greatest thing he had ever experienced in his life! Even greater than learning he was a wizard. _Here is something I can do without even knowing how!_ he screamed exuberantly within his mind, grinning so broadly it rendered him incapable of speech at the moment. For the few seconds he had sped along the ground with the wind whistling past his ears he had known for the first time in his life what it felt like to be truly free. _Flying on a broom is freedom!_

Harry put his feet down and stood up as his broom had been skimming along the ground that closely. After pulling the broom out from between his legs he held up the glass ball he had caught for all to see. It was only then that he realized no one was cheering or even making a move in his direction. Instead all eyes seemed to be fixed on a point just over his shoulder.

"Mr. Potter," said a cool voice almost directly behind the first year Slytherin. "Fancy yourself a Quidditch player now do you?" Professor Snape enquired with a sneer as the boy turned to face him. "Apparently celebrity status isn't nearly enough for you."

"I was just trying to get…" Harry's words trailed off under the cold glare of his head of house. He had only wanted to get the thing from Malfoy he wanted to say but this was a Professor, his head of House none the less. Old habits ingrained took over, stealing any sense of accomplishment from him as he hastily cast he eyes towards the ground.

"Fascinating…," Snape drawled in a monotone voice. "Perhaps we can find a better use for your wonderful…talents," the Potions Master nearly hissed. "If I see another student on a broom I will personally see to it that you're expelled quicker than you can say Quidditch!" Severus bellowed loud enough for all to hear. "Follow me, Potter," Snape said with a glare down his pale nose at the emerald eyed boy before turning away and striding off with his robes bellowing out behind him magnificently.

Harry glanced over at the other students only to see Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle all laughing at his expense. With a resigned sigh he turned and hastened after the departing Potions Master wondering what punishment awaited him or if he'd even remain at the school long enough to be punished.


	9. Beneath The Stars Above

Harry set the pins down in a neat evenly spaced row across the flat surface and then worked his way back along the length of the table returning each one to the former book it had originally been before his accidental magic. Once done he collected the books in a stack before moving them to one of the adjacent tables that still had room, adding the books to those currently stacked there. In what had now become a well-practiced routine, the emerald eyed boy returned to the first table and laid out another set of pins to start the process all over once again. As Harry worked, his thoughts returned to the events from earlier that afternoon. He recalled being more surprised than frightened upon seeing the Potions Master standing behind after getting off the broom. When told to come by the man there was little he could but obey.

Following the billowing hem of his Head of House's robes as they marched back towards the castle gave Harry more than enough time to wonder what had ever possessed him to speak up and act so brashly. _What was I thinking?_ he wondered silently as he hurried to keep up with the longer strides of the Professor before him. _I should have just kept my mouth shut and let Malfoy have the thing. I'm sure he would have grown tired of it sooner or later and given it back._ Harry's hand unconsciously dropped to his side, patting the bulge of the glass and metal object that rested snugly within one of the inner pockets of his robes.

Even as his thoughts asked him why he had acted in the manner he had, his own conscious told him why. _Being on the receiving end of such bullying and disparaging remarks is something no one should have to deal with._ He understood that he could have run away as well as left it alone. After all it was not like he personally knew the Longbottom boy, though he did have a passing acquaintance with the boy's toad after the train ride that had brought them both to Hogwarts. _I just couldn't stand to see someone else treated like me even though I knew I would be better off without saying or doing anything._

Growing up it had not taken him long to realize the benefit of avoiding direct confrontations with his larger and stronger cousin. Speaking out only meant a longer beating. Fighting back meant even worse as at that point Dudley could claim self-defense and did not need to hold back at all. _So why did I suddenly decide to say something? Granted, Malfoy is certainly no Dudley_ , Harry mused as his larger cousin was easily twice as heavy as the blonde Slytherin. The fact that both the Crabbe and Goyle boys were never far from the Malfoy boy's side did not escape Harry's notice. _You don't have to be big if you have two larger boys next to you ready to follow your every command._

Harry couldn't help but wonder if this incident would lead to him being expelled from Hogwarts and forced to return once more to the Dursleys. _Not only was I flying after specifically being told not to do so by Madam Hooch but I was also fighting with Malfoy!_ Harry sighed heavily as they entered the castle and hastily made their way towards the stairs leading down to the Dungeons. The dark haired wizard was certain that this latest event, coupled with the incident in the library, would be more than enough to see him on a one way train ride back to London.

The pair of them hastened down the stairs and through the hallways within the Dungeon, passing the hidden entrance to the Slytherin common room and making a direct line for the Professor's own office. "Inside, Potter," Severus snapped as he stopped at the door and motioned the boy to enter before him only afterwards following him and closing the door.

The office, much like the potions classroom, was rather gloomy with a large oak desk set in one corner. There were windows placed high up upon the walls which made them more or less at ground height on the outside of the castle. The ceiling itself was rather high, which was a good thing as there were numerous roots and other plant-like items hanging from the rafters to dry.

The walls were covered in shelves that held such a vast and varied array of jars and containers as to make it almost unbelievable. Some of them Harry could see into and realized that there were animals and other ingredients that would most likely be used in the brewing of potions. There were several other doors near the back of the office which the boy assumed led to the Professor's private quarters.

Harry's first breath within the Potion Master's office nearly overwhelmed him. There was such a mixture of scents in the room that it was impossible to identify any one of them as they all seemed to blend together creating a smell that was uniquely its own. Instead the odor served to almost intoxicate his senses, making him slightly light headed till he grew accustom to it.

There was a low bench along one wall that had several cauldrons simmering upon it. Each was giving off a thin tendril of smoke, each of a unique color, which wound its way sluggishly into the air and added to the stifling heaviness of the room in general. The office was nearly exactly what he would have expected a Potions Master's to be, complete with a candle perched precariously atop the summit of a human skull.

Harry quickly moved to the empty space before the large oak desk and stood there with his eyes cast to the ground. He was fairly certain that this was not going to be pleasurable in any sense of the word. The boy's only consolation was the realization that he would probably be sleeping back in his cupboard by the end of the day. He had little doubt that he would be beaten and bruised upon arriving home, but he would once again be back to what was familiar and normal or what passed for it in his world.

"Of all the reckless, irresponsible and utterly childish actions!" Snape started in a loud voice even before he had rounded the desk to take his seat and glare at the black mass of unruly hair standing before him. "You're just as arrogant and disrespecting of the rules as your father was!" Snape growled as he momentarily replaced the image of the eleven year old boy before him with an older version of James Potter when they had both attended Hogwarts at the same time.

"Whatever possessed you to jump upon your broom and decide to go for a joy-fly while Madam Hooch was away?" Snape enquired. "Surely there had to be something that sparked this idiocy?"

Harry pondered his reply for a long moment, uncertain of just how to respond. A life time of not talking back, or not even talking at all, was a hard habit to overcome. The few times he had attempted to defend himself to his uncle against Dudley's accusation had only seen him beaten for ' _lying_ ' and trying to get his cousin in trouble as well. This usually resulted in his subsequently being locked within his cupboard with no food or water for several days and only a bucket to relieve himself in. It didn't take long for him to learn that silence was the best defense there was. Better to take whatever punishment was coming, there was always one coming, than open his mouth and add to it.

Harry glanced up through his bangs and saw that the Professor was waiting for his reply. "No Sir. No reason," Harry finally mumbled barely loud enough for the Potions Master to hear.

"Think the rules don't apply to you because you're some celebrity, do you Potter?" Snape asked in a voice heavy with scorn only to see the mass of black strands swish back and forth as the boy shook his head in denial. "Just because you're The-Boy-Who-Lived does not mean you can do anything you want! You're no different than any other student attending school here. Do you understand me, boy?"

Hearing the word _boy_ used in such a manner and tone brought to mind all too clearly his uncle Vernon. The young Slytherin could clearly depict the large man leaning over him, face a terrible shade of red and purple, as he spat out the word as if it left a foul taste in his mouth. Harry nodded slightly and then flinched away from the man behind the desk as Snape slammed his hand down loudly upon the desktop in anger.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you!" Snape yelled. "I see we'll have to add disrespectful to your long list of reprehensible behavior as well." The Head of Slytherin House proceeded to tear into the boy for several very long minutes concerning his behavior and perceived disrespect of everything from the rules to the school and the Potions Master himself. Severus paused, took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself as he stared at the student before his desk who was even now visibly fighting the urge to drop his eyes to the floor once more, only marginally being able to look at him as instructed to do so.

"You could have…," the Potions Master quickly caught himself before he finished saying that he could have been hurt. The fact that he stopped himself from voicing it did not lessen the possibility that the boy could have been seriously injured or even worse. Once again Severus saw the vision of another person, this time with green eyes, standing before him where the boy was. Her red wavy hair cascading down across her shoulders caused Severus' chest to ache once with an all too familiar pain. _This is Lily's son_ , he reminded himself. "…hurt one of the other students, if not several of them with your recklessness," he quickly recovered with in a much calmer voice.

Snape cleared his throat as he sat back in his seat to regard the boy sternly for several long moments as well as to allow himself to regain control over his thoughts. _He didn't try to blame someone else_ , the Potions Master thought to himself, knowing there was more to the story than the boy was saying.

Severus had been walking along the hallway on his way to the Headmaster's office when he had glanced out a window only to see Draco hanging by his hands from a broom and Harry speeding along the ground at a dangerous speed. Hastening out a door he had witnessed the boy on the broom pull up and spin about only to catch a small object with one hand.

_Had this been his father he would have no doubt had some glib comment or humorous anecdote to offer in the defense of his actions._ The potions Professor was certain the Malfoy boy was involved in some manner as well. The fact that Harry didn't automatically try to position the blame on the other boy said a great deal about the dark haired wizard. "How very un-Slytherin," Snape drawled softly to himself.

"Five points from Slytherin and detention tonight," the Slytherin Head of House said aloud to Harry.

Harry's eyes grew slightly rounder as he heard his punishment, having expected far worse than what he had just been told. "I have Astronomy tonight Sir," he informed his Head of House of in a meek voice, fearing his words would set the Potions Mater off once again.

"Then we will make if for directly after breakfast in the morning," Severus replied. "Yes, I think that will work out much better. If you get caught once again so flagrantly disregarding the rules I'll see to it that you're out of here quicker than you can say Hogwarts! Do I make myself understood, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded vigorously that he understood, only to see the Professor make a shooing gesture towards the door. Not needing to be told twice, and recognizing a dismissal when he saw one, the dark haired wizard beat a hasty retreat for the library and the basket of pins that still needed returning to their original form.

Harry gave a mental chuckle and wondered not for the first time just how he had gotten off so easily for such a flagrant violation of the rules. The only answer he could come up with was the fact that the Professor who had caught him had been his own Head of House. Not wanting to deduct more points than he would have to from his own House, Professor Snape had gone easy on him. _That has to be why_ , Harry thought to himself as he set out another row of pins and began to change them back into books.

"Hi Harry," said the voice of a certain bushy haired Gryffindor witch. "I thought I might find you here."

Harry looked to the side and offered a small smile to Hermione upon confirming it was her. "How did the rest of the lesson go?"

"Madam Hooch was a little surprised by your absence when she returned," Hermione told him. "Of course Malfoy was more than happy to tell her that Professor Snape had taken you away after catching you riding your broom," the young witch added with a hint of anger in her tone at the blonde boy's actions. "You wouldn't even have been in the air if it hadn't been for him!"

"It's alright," Harry replied with a dismissing shrug of his shoulders before he used his wand to restore the books from their current pin state.

"No, it is most certainly is not alright," Hermione corrected him as she watched him with a small amount of envy at how effortlessly he seemed to change the pins back to books. "He's a prat who thinks himself better than others!" she added as her soft brown eyes followed the movement of his wand in an attempt to learn the spell he was utilizing.

"Some people just can't help be the way they are," Harry offered in counter to her words as he set his wand down and gathered up the books into a stack before lifting them and walking towards the still empty shelves.

Hermione was quick to grab an arm full of books from the nearest table and follow after him. "That doesn't make it alright for him to be that way, Harry. It's not fair that you got into trouble while nothing happened to him."

Harry shrugged as much as one could with an arm-load of books as he led the way. "Little in life is fair, Hermione," he said over his shoulder. "I would think a bright witch such as yourself would know that," he added in a slightly teasing tone of voice.

Hermione's cheeks turned pink even as she smiled. _He thinks I'm bright!_ "That still doesn't make it right, Harry." The boy ahead of her only grunted in agreement as they turned a corner and walked down the row of shelves. "What….what punishment did Professor Snape give you," the young witch hesitantly asked.

Harry stopped before a series of shelves that already had several books upon it. Resting the books he was carrying on the edge of a lower shelf he began placing the books one at a time upon the higher shelf. "I lost Slytherin five points and have detention after breakfast tomorrow morning," he told her honestly. "I had expected far worse," Harry confided in her as he placed the last of his books on the shelf and began taking the ones from her arms.

Hermione's brow creased as she listened to his words. "But Harry we have Astronomy tonight," she said in a slightly puzzled yet thoughtful tone, to which the boy before her simply nodded in agreement. "We won't get to bed till terribly late as class is not over till two-thirty in the morning. You'll barely get any rest."

Harry took the last book from her and set it on the shelf before the two of them turned and retraced their steps, walking side by side. "I'll be fine. Uncle Vernon says I'm young and shouldn't need more than a couple hours of sleep," Harry told her as they walked back towards the table. "Three or four hours should be more than enough," he replied in a reassuring tone as they reached their goal.

Hermione wasn't certain if he was right or not but didn't want to push the issue, fearful that she might offend him. The young witch had been told so many times by her own parents that it was essential for a growing girl to get at least eight hours of sleep every night that she accepted it as a truth. She doubted the need for adequate sleep was different for a boy of her own age. "Are you sure?" she enquired as she watched him set out another row of pins.

Harry nodded with a smile as he turned and looked at her. "I rarely get more than that at home," he said as he moved his hand in the required gesture to transfigure the pins back to books. "Sometimes even less than that and it hasn't seemed to hurt me yet." Turning back the dark haired boy moved to start stacking the books to make room for others.

"Harry?" Hermione said in a questioning tone as her eyes were glued to the books upon the table that he was currently stacking without thought. "Did you just transfigure those pins back to books?" she asked in a disbelieving tone.

"Yes. Madam Pince showed me how to do it," Harry replied, not catching the tone of her question. "I told you that last night I believe. I've done it so many times now that I think I could do it in my sleep," he chuckled at the thought of doing just that. "I've probably changed back over a thousand books so any more I can do it without even thinking about it."

"…or without a wand," Hermione said in a slightly awed voice as her brown eyes looked from the books to Harry's wand which still lay upon the table.

"What?" Harry asked as he looked towards his wand. "I did use it, see? It's right there where I set it down when I was done with it. It's a routine. Set the pins down, pick up the wand and transfigure. Set the wand down, pick up the books and take them to the shelves. Return and place the pins again and…," Harry shrugged, his slim shoulders rising in falling even as crooked grin appeared on his face, "repeat till finished."

"No," Hermione insisted as she slowly shook her head, "I'm certain I just saw you transfigure those pins with only your hand, Harry."

"I think you were just distracted because we were talking. I wish I could do that," he told her, "but it's just not possible. Here, I'll prove it." Pushing the now stacked books to one side he reached into the basket and fished out several pins before placing them on the table top. Raising his hand he went through the wand motions and nothing happened. "See, nothing," he said to reiterate his point. Seeing her still skeptical look he reached over and taking his wand up quickly transfigured the pins. "Can't be done without my wand."

"I…I guess," the young witch finally said though her tone clearly indicated that she still wasn't certain.

Harry reached over to the basket and pulled out a single pin, offering it to her. "Hold out your hand," he instructed her with a grin. After gently laying the pin in Hermione's palm he effortlessly transfigured it with his wand.

Hermione's arched a brow in question as she looked down at the book on Ancient Runes that was suddenly in her hand and then back up at Harry. "What's this?" she enquired.

"The last one," Harry told her as he held up the now empty basket while grinning widely at the witch.

**-oOo-**

"He shows the same disregard for the rules as his father did," Severus sneered as he seated himself in the chair before the Headmaster's desk. "Flying about as if he could do as he pleased and none would oppose him. He's only been here a few days and he has already put on airs!"

"I understand there was more to it than that, Severus," Albus interjected with a slight twinkle in his blue eyes. The Potion Master of Hogwarts had marched into his office several minutes before to inform him of the actions of Harry. The Headmaster was content to allow the younger man to vent for a bit. Well aware of the hatred Severus carried for young Harry's father, Albus could do little but try to point out that the first year student was Lily's son as well.

Severus waved his hand as if dismissing the Headmaster's words. "Some story about retrieving an object another boy had taken," the Potion Master offered as he glanced about the office. The Headmaster's office was filled with more curious objects and gadgets than any other place in the entire castle, which was saying something considering the learning aids some classes sported. It never failed to amaze Severus just what the aged wizard had collected over his long life.

"Mr. Malfoy I believe," Albus inserted gently. The Headmaster was well aware of the Head of Slytherin House's penchant to overlook the wrong doing of those within his own house. Many a student as well as several other professors had complained however Albus believed that life was a series of lessons and not all of them were good ones. A biased professor was just one of many that the students of Hogwarts would learn during their time here till they completed their N.E.W.T.s. Life was seldom ever fair and the sooner they learned that lesson the better prepared they would be for life outside the walls of the castle.

"I did not see Draco take the item," Severus stated in defense of his actions, not entirely certain there even was an item. _I should have asked Potter for it!_ "I did however see him hanging from his broom after Potter raced past him, knocking him from his seat! Reckless endangerment of a fellow student must not be tolerated, Headmaster."

"Did you actually see Harry remove Mr. Malfoy from his seat?" Albus asked. The Potions Master would not meet the older man's eyes but did shack his head once that he had not. "Was Mr. Malfoy also suitably punished?" Albus asked. Upon seeing the questioning look upon the other man's face the Headmaster explained, "Was he not also on his broom when expressly told not to be? One would think that he too was then disregarding the rules as you aptly point out young Harry was."

"I will see that Draco also receives proper punishment," Severus offered in a neutral tone. It did not please him to have to punish yet another member of his house but at the time he did not see any way to avoid having to do so.

"As none of this would have transpired had not Mr. Malfoy first decided to keep Mr. Longbottom's property I would think that he should receive similar punishment as given to Mr. Harry Potter," Albus stated with a small knowing smile as he watched his Potions Master.

"I shall see to it, Headmaster," Severus promised barely keeping the grimace from his features. "As to my first request?" Upon first entering the Headmaster's office the Head of Slytherin House had requested something which had led to the explanation for the request and the subsequent divulgence of the events that had transpired during the flying class.

"You feel that Young Harry is reckless and has a certain disregard for the rules and yet you still wish to request this exception?" Albus asked, already knowing the answer he would receive. The Headmaster's eyes twinkled merrily as he watched the man seated before him squirm ever so slightly in his chair. Albus knew just how hard it was for Severus to ask this.

"I'm not a stupid man," Severus opened with as he gathered his thoughts and braced himself for his next words, knowing they would leave a foul taste in his mouth. "If he is half as good as his father was I would be a fool not to have him on my team."

"I do not believe anyone would venture to call you a fool, Severus," Albus replied with a small smile, pleased to see that the dark haired professor was able to look past the parents to see the child instead…even if only just this once. He, perhaps more than anyone else alive, well knew the Potion Master's dislike for the young boy's father, even after all of these years. "Very well, I shall leave young Harry in your capable hands, Severus."

The Potions Master stood and tilted his head slightly, "Thank you, Headmaster." Without further word the dark haired Professor turned and hurried from the room.

Albus leaned forward and lifting the lid from his ever present candy bowl selected a lemon drop, popping it into his mouth even as he set the lid down once again to its former location. "Enjoy your childhood, Harry," he spoke softly to the emptiness of the room, "for I fear it shall be taken from you far sooner than any of us would like." To the side of the Headmaster's desk Fawkes let out a mournful trill as if in agreement.

**-oOo-**

Harry stayed in the library and did his schoolwork at the same table as Hermione before the two of them made their way down to the great hall for the evening meal. Harry separated from the bushy haired witch at the main doors and made his way to the far end of the Slytherin table before seating himself and serving his usual small portions of food. While he knew he could serve himself more to eat, he had lived off this amount for so long that he found it to be more than adequate for his nourishment. _Don't want to start looking like Dudley_ , he told himself.

The-Boy-Who-Lived quickly finished his meager meal and, after pocketing an apple, made his way from the great hall, intending to return to the library and read over the chapter for that night's lesson. Tonight was to be their first Astronomy class with Professor Sinistra and he really didn't know what to expect. As he walked through the large double doors of the hall he noticed that the doors leading outside were still open and decided that some fresh air might be nice to clear him head some.

The young wizard's wandering feet soon lead him down from the entrance of the castle along a cobble stoned pathway that led down towards Black Lake. Upon reaching the edge of the lake, he continued along the shore line at a leisurely pace. The steady lapping of the small waves against the shore was surprisingly soothing and relaxing. As Harry walked his thoughts once again returned to the library and what Hermione had said.

Harry gave voice to his thoughts as he softly spoke aloud to himself, "I couldn't have done that without a wand," he mused in a questioning tone of voice. As he tried to recall what he had done exactly, he found that his memory wasn't very clear. He really wasn't surprised that he couldn't remember. "After the first hundred or so books they all just sort of blurred together from there on out," he said, maintaining his one sided conversation with himself. "Can magic even be done without a wand?" he wondered.

The emerald-eyed boy paused for a moment and decided to test once again if he could do magic without his wand. His eyes spied a small stone laying at the water's edge, "that should do nicely," he reasoned, deciding the small stone would work for what he wanted to try. "It may not be a feather, however it should work I think," Harry told himself as he concentrated upon the small stone. Raising his hand he flicked and swished it as if he was holding his wand, " _Wingardium Leviosa_!" he intoned, commanding the stone to rise, as he watched his hand to ensure the gestures were correct. The stone steadfastly remained where it was. "I guess I should have known," he tried to console himself as his shoulders sagged and he lowered his hand back to his side.

"Harry?" questioned a deep male voice behind him.

The young wizard spun about with a look of embarrassment upon his features and his cheeks flushed at being caught attempting to do something he wasn't even certain could be done. "Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed upon confirming who it was, though he was already fairly certain from the voice alone.

"What are you doing out here by yourself, Harry?" the Grounds Keeper of Hogwarts enquired while glancing about to see if anyone else was near that he might have missed.

"Just out for a walk is all," Harry replied, hoping the half-giant hadn't seen him attempting to cast wandless magic. "I have astronomy tonight and thought a bit of fresh air might help keep me awake," the boy offered in way of explanation.

"Mind if I walk with ya then?' Hagrid asked. Upon seeing the boy nod his acceptance the overly large man fell in beside the boy and the two of them started walking along the shore of the lake. "How are you settling in, Harry?" Hagrid finally broached the question he had wanted to ask after they had walked a ways in silence.

"Alright I reckon," Harry replied. "Not much different than being at home actually," he added upon recalling the mud found in his bed. It felt nice to be with Hagrid and the steady sound of the water was still relaxing. The Half-giant was the first person from the magical world that he had met. While he didn't want to admit it to himself, deep inside Harry considered the easy-speaking giant of a man to be as close to a friend as anyone could be.

"And the other boys in your house treating you alright?" enquired the bushy bearded giant with a heavy trace of concern in his tone. Hagrid was as shocked as anyone else when Harry had been sorted into Slytherin and had been worried about the boy ever since.

Harry shrugged, his small shoulders rising and falling quickly. "They mostly leave me alone," the boy stated as he looked down at the path before his feet. "Why do you ask?" Harry had heard the strange tone in the man's voice but never having heard anyone express concern for his wellbeing before, he wasn't certain exactly what it meant.

"On 'ccount of 'em bein Slytherin and all," Hagrid confessed, his words still containing a trace of worry for the small boy.

"Why would their house make a difference, Hagrid?" Harry asked, puzzled by the large man's response. Hagrid stayed quiet for several long minutes. Harry glanced to his side and noted the worried expression on the Grounds Keeper's face.

"Well, it may not be my place ta say," Hagrid opened with, "but those in Slytherin tend ta be mostly of the Pureblood types and they don't usually mix well with others. They hardly mix well with 'emselves," he added after giving it a thought for a moment.

"I've heard some rumors about Slytherin House and all but I didn't pay them much mind." Harry walked a few feet further before he continued. "Why is it that Slytherin has such a bad reputation, Hagrid?"

"Mostly due to those of pureblood believing they're better 'an others. The older families, with a few exceptions mind ya, tend to treat others as lesser beings. Well that and the fact that there hasn't been a dark witch or wizard 'at's gone bad that wasn't from Slytherin," the half-giant finished with.

"Does that mean I'll have to go dark too?" Harry asked with large frightened eyes and a bit of fear in his voice.

"No, course not, Harry!" Hagrid quickly replied to alleviate the boy's fears. "Not all Slytherins go dark." Hagrid's brow creased in thought for a moment before he continued. "There are those 'at go on to live respectable lives. Ain't no house here perfect, mind you, Harry. It's just that within the past few centuries those witches and wizards that 'ave turned to the Dark Arts 'ave all been from one house."

"Slytherin," Harry said as the half-giant next to him nodded in agreement. _No wonder everyone dislikes us_ , Harry mused to himself. The rumors he had heard previously were that everyone disliked Slytherins and Slytherins hated everyone who wasn't part of their house.

"Still, that's only a handful of them at best, Harry, so no need to fear that for yerself," Hagrid said. "I think perhaps the reason that Slytherin House is looked upon in such a manner is because it is different from the other houses."

"How so?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. While he understood the House system used at Hogwarts, he didn't know much about his own house and felt that this might be a good time to learn something about it. Hagrid, having been at the school for some time, could prove to be a valuable source of information.

"Well," Hagrid paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before he continued, "Each house is known for their own attributes. Ravenclaw favors those who are exceptionally bright and wise. Hufflepuff cherishes loyalty and hard work above all else. Gryffindor's are known for their bravery and courage." Hagrid paused and looked down to the boy next to him as they walked. "I was certain you would have been a Gryff. Still can't believe that the Headmaster let the ruddy hat sort you as it did."

"Why's that?" Harry asked.

"On the count of yer Mom and Dad were both Gryffindors, Harry," Hagrid told him. "Weren't two more courageous people I 'ave ever known than them two. Standing up to You-Know-Who and all. They saved many a lives before he got to them."

"You mean Voldemort?" Harry said in a questioning tone only to hushed by the large man next to him.

"People be fearin' ta say his name," Hagrid told the confused eleven year old. " On account of some believe that to say his name will call his attention to ya."

"But I thought he was dead?" Harry questioned as his own brow creased in confusion. "Didn't he die when I got this scar?" Harry asked as he reached up and touched the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. "It's just a name after all."

Hagrid glanced around them at the gathering dusk to make certain they were alone. "There be some that think he will return," Hagrid nodded as if to emphasize his words when he heard Harry gasp in surprise. "But you 'ave nothin to worry bout, Harry. Albus Dumbledore is here and as long as he is You-Know-Who won't be coming about. Ain't a stronger wizard or witch alive than Professor Dumbledore," the half-giant assured the boy in a tone boarding on hero worship.

"What about Slytherin? What is it known for?" Harry asked returning the conversation back to the topic they had been discussing. Harry felt a shiver of fear upon hearing that Voldemort might return, but he knew there was little he could do about it at this time. Those kind of things were better left to the adults to handle. _I'm just a kid after all. What could I possibly do that the Headmaster couldn't do much better?_

"Slytherin's are well known for being ambitious and cunning," Hagrid replied, grateful to be off the topic of a certain Dark Lord. "What sets them apart from the other Houses 'ere at Hogwarts is the fact that the other three houses look after their own."

"You mean like Professor McGonagall said that first evening? That our house was like our family," Harry offered as he puzzled it out in his own mind. Even though his understanding of family was more than slightly skewed from the norm, he was fairly certain the aged professor had not meant that they were to be like the Dursleys.

"That's just so," Hagrid said in agreement, "however unlike the other Houses, Slytherin's only look after themselves. They don't really care about their Housemates so long as they themselves are well off. If you get an offer from a Slytherin and it seems to only benefit you, then you'd best not take it cause sure as Merlin's beard there is something in it for the one making the offering. Usually what they will get from it will be far more than what you'll be receiving from it."

Harry walked deep in thought for a bit before he ventured a reply. "I think I am where I'm supposed to be then, Hagrid," he said while looking up at the half-giant next to him. Seeing the look of confusion on the Grounds Keeper's face he continued and tried to explain his statement. "The sorting hat had mentioned each house when it was on my head. I asked it to place me in Slytherin," Harry confessed, returning his gaze to the path in front of them once again. Harry wasn't about to tell the half-giant that he had really asked the tattered hat to place him where he would get the least amount of attention.

"Blimey Harry! Why would you go and do something like that?" Hagrid asked in astonishment.

"If you stop and think about it, a Slytherin works alone. That makes them as courageous as a Gryffindor as it can't be easy when it is you against everyone else. Because they work alone they also have to do all the work themselves and they have to stay on task which makes them both hard working as well as loyal to their beliefs, just like a Hufflepuff. Lastly, their entire House is out to beat them and so they have to be smart as well as intelligent to beat everyone else, just like a Ravenclaw is smart." Harry turned and looked over at the man next to him once again, "So to me it would seem that Slytherins are a combination of the other three houses."

Hagrid's brow creased as he worked his way through what Harry had just said. The half-giant had no love for the house of Snakes due to past transgressions when he himself was a student at Hogwarts. It wasn't that he hated any of the current Slytherin students, just that he did not trust the Slytherin House in general. It didn't help that many of the Death Eaters who had supported the Dark Lord when he came to power had come from the House of Snakes. "I never really thought of it that way," Hagrid finally said in a thoughtful tone. The half-giant knew there was a flaw in the young boy's logic but he just couldn't find it.

The Grounds Keeper seemed to shake himself, his mole skin coat shifting about as with a visible effort he mentally changed gears. "It's getting late, we'd best head back," he informed the boy with a quick glance about them as if he half expected a Death Eater or two to suddenly step from the gathering gloom.

Harry glanced about, only then realizing that the sun had already set and darkness was closing in on them fairly quickly. "Alright. Thanks Hagrid, it was nice talking with you," Harry offered as he turned about to head back to the castle in the distance.

"Come by and see me at my hut some time, Harry," Hagrid said with a smile. "I'll make us some tea and we can talk more, alright?"

"I think I would rather enjoy that, Hagrid," Harry replied while walking backwards towards the school, only to see the large man's face break out into a giant of a smile. With a final wave Harry hurried off back to the castle. With any luck he'd still have time enough to read over this evening's lesson once or twice.

Hagrid watched the boy set off at a run back towards the castle before slowly turning to follow him at a much slower pace. _I guess the sorting hat knew what it was doing with placing him in Slytherin_ , the half-giant thought to himself. He still didn't like the fact that Harry was in the House of Snakes but he was glad to see that the boy was still the same one he had rescued a little over a month ago from the old lighthouse and that Muggle family.

As the Grounds Keeper of Hogwarts ambled along something caught his eye. It was a single stone floating several feet off the ground near the water's edge. Seeing the stone brought to mind the one he had delivered to the Headmaster which now resided in Hogwarts. Hagrid pulled his coat tighter about him as he felt a shiver traverse his spine.

**-oOo-**

Daphne's brow creased in thought as she once again recalled the events that had transpired in the library earlier that day. She couldn't help but feel bad about her own part which she had played in it, even if it was unintentional. Once more she saw a certain dark haired wizard turn away from her and Tracey. There was no mistaking the hurt look in Harry's emerald eyes after he informed them that he could find his own way to class. The fact that Harry had arrived with Hermione had not escaped her notice either.

"Daphne. Daphne!" Tracey Davis called for the fourth time, startling the blonde witch from her thoughts. "Earth to Daphne. Did you even hear a word I said?" Tracey asked in an exasperated voice.

"I'm sorry, Tracey," Daphne offered apologetically to her best friend not meaning to have ignored her. "My mind was elsewhere," she confessed, her cheeks pinking slightly in embarrassment at her friend's knowing look. _It's such a small thing_ , she tried to tell herself more than once since it had happened. _Then why does it bother me so much?_ That was a question to which she had as yet been able to find an answer.

"Are you still thinking about him?" Tracey asked, knowing the answer already. Having been with the blonde witch since they were little, she well knew that Daphne did not like to be offended and hated to offend or hurt others even more. There was no doubt in her mind that Daphne would continue to worry about the matter till amends were made.

"I just can't help it," Daphne answered plaintively as she snapped her text book closed and set it aside on the bed next to her. "I just keep seeing his face when he turned away. He looked so…," she trailed off as she sought for the right word or phrase to describe what she had seen in those green eyes.

"Hurt?" Tracey offered to complete the other girl's sentence. Being a half-blood herself, she had been on the receiving end of more than one derogatory comment in her short life so she knew it was never an enjoyable place to be. Tracey could well understand how it would hurt to have two people who were professing to be friends suddenly say something which sounded like they were making fun of you.

"No," Daphne said with a slow negative shake of her head, "betrayed…though that wasn't even the worst part of it. It was like he expected it to happen and was totally accepting of the fact that it did." _He expected us to turn on him and wasn't surprised when we did it either. It's like he just expected that was the way life was supposed to be._ Daphne couldn't fathom what could have happen to Harry to make a person be that way. "He expected us to turn on him and in doing so we just confirmed what his expectations of us were already," she said, clearly upset to have proven the boy mistrust of them a reality.

Tracey closed her own book and set it aside for the moment as she realized that neither of them would be able to study till they had at the very least talked about what happened. Through silent agreement they had both refrained from returning to the library after dinner and had instead made their way to the first year girl's dormitory in favor of the Slytherin common room. Perhaps they both realized there would be little privacy to be had with the rest of their housemates around. "I'm sure we weren't the only ones that went to the library to see what had happened there," Tracey finally offered in an attempt to justify their actions as nothing out of the ordinary.

Daphne sighed heavily, leaning back onto the pillows of her bed which they were both currently seated on. "I know, but we're not just anyone. We're his Housemates and Outsiders just like he is. We're supposed to be different than the others, better than that. If we can't be there for each other no one will be." The young witch once more saw those emerald orbs and couldn't help but wonder if there had ever been anyone who had been there for Harry when he needed someone to be.

Tracey thought for a moment before replying, "Well, the potions out of the vial now so it does no good to be dwelling on the fact. All we can do is decide what to do from here forward. It's not like we were intentionally making fun of him," she reasoned in an attempt to ease the guilt she knew the girl seated next to her was currently feeling. The half-blood witch knew all too well what Daphne was feeling as she felt just as guilty for her own words.

"I know," Daphne easily agreed with the auburn haired witch. Sitting up she drew a pillow into her lap and hugged it to her chest as she thought. "Do you think we should apologize to him?" she asked after several long moments of silence had passed between them.

"What would you say? Sorry for disturbing you in the library?" Tracey asked. "I mean I know how what we said sounded but we didn't really intend for it to be taken that way. I'm actually surprised that he took offense to it as boys are usually so clueless about such things."

Daphne couldn't disagree with the witch. Boys at their age were usually incapable of feeling anything, be it good or bad. They had more than once commented on how boys had the emotional range of teaspoons, if that. The blonde Slytherin recalled Harry covering her with his own robes on the train and then later helping her down the ladder using his own body to protect her should she fall. _He's not like most other boys_ , she told herself. _Other boys wouldn't have sat on that roof and just talked to me as he did_. "I…I think we should, or at the very least try to explain," she finally said aloud having come to a decision.

"Then that's what we'll do," Tracey replied, knowing her friend had made up her mind on the matter and probably wasn't about to change it. Deep inside she was relieved as she too felt it was the right thing to do. She often played Devil's advocate for her friend to bounce ideas off of however, just because she spoke against a certain thought did not indicate that was how she truly felt. "Now can we get back to the constellations we'll be observing tonight?" Tracey asked in a begging tone of voice.

Daphne grinned at the pleading expression on the other witch's face. "If you had read the assignment you would have already had this covered," she chided as she none the less reached for the text book she had set aside before their talk. "One of these days you're going to surprise me and actually be ahead in all of your classes." Tracey's answering snort of amusement told her not to get her hopes up for that any time soon.

The two Slytherin witches continued to study till it was time for that evening's lesson. After packing up what they would require for the class they made their way to the Astrology Tower. As they neared the entrance to it on the seventh floor they could see a line of Slytherin and Gryffindor students awaiting the Professor's arrival. Daphne quickly spotted Harry standing next to the Gryffindor witch, Granger, at the front of the line.

_Trust Granger to be first_ , she thought to herself silently. She watched as the young witch continued to talk while Harry listened attentively to what he was being told. Any hope she had of gaining his noticed was dashed as he was turned away with his back towards her _._ A small sigh of disappointment escaped the young girl's lips as she realized this.

A red headed Gryffindor boy, who was standing behind the first two in line, appeared to be rather put out from being left out of the conversation between Harry and Hermione. Every so often he would shoot a dark look towards Harry when he thought no one was watching. Ronald Weasley was not happy to have a snake chatting up his Housemate.

"Do you want to do it now?" Tracey asked upon hearing the sigh and noticing where Daphne was staring. While she didn't relish a public apology she was willing to do so if that was what Daphne wanted to do. "We could just walk up to the both of them," she offered as she glanced towards where Harry was standing.

Daphne swallowed heavily suddenly finding that she didn't have the courage to do it right in front of all the first year students from both her house as well as those of Gryffindor. "He looks to be busy right now," she finally said, licking her suddenly dry lips slowly. "Maybe we'll have a chance during class," she offered as an alternative.

"A chance for what?" enquired a well-educated sounding voice from behind the two witches.

"To see some stars," Tracey said as she turned to glare at Draco who had just arrived with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. "This is an astronomy class after all, Malfoy. Not that it's any of your business what we're talking about or anything."

"Davis what have I ever done to offend you?" Draco asked in a patronizing tone of voice. "It's not my fault you were born a half-blood after all. You should just be glad that you're not a mud-blood," the young Slytherin added with a sneer. "There's always a chance some desperate Pureblood might take pity on you in the future."

"If being a Pureblood means being like you then I'm quite happy as I am thank you," Tracey replied with a sneer of her own. "The Davis' have been around a great deal longer than the Malfoy's. At least we didn't have to flee our country of birth," Tracey added, referring to the rumor that the Malfoy family had emigrated from France several generations back.

Draco's face became red with anger; however whatever he was going to say was stopped by the arrival of Professor Sinistra. The young Malfoy heir had to settle for shooting a scathing glare at the auburn-haired witch for now.

"Good evening class. I am Professor Sinistra," the astronomy professor said as she swept past the line of waiting students. Aurora Sinistra was a striking witch with dark skin and long dark hair that cascaded over one shoulder, reaching nearly to her waist. Her dark brown eyes were warm and welcoming and a smile often graced her full lips. There were many students at Hogwarts that fancied the Astrology professor. Aurora was currently the youngest professor at Hogwarts having just passed her N.E.W.T.'s five years ago.

"I would like to welcome all of you to your first evening of Astronomy," the Professor intoned as she turned to face the waiting students upon reaching the door to the tower. "In my class you will learn of the different stars, planets and constellations that reside within the night sky. We will discuss in detail the pull these heavenly bodies have upon our magic as well as upon us," she said with a small playful smile. Noting the slightly confused expression on most the class she pushed on, "Can anyone tell me why this knowledge is important?" Hermione's hand shot up into the air in a flash. "How about you Mr. Potter?" the Professor enquired with a warm smile as she regarded the surprised wizard.

"As constellations ascend and wane they have direct impact upon certain rituals, potions and other magical abilities," Harry offered, nearly repeating a line from the text book word for word.

"I see someone has done their reading," Sinistra said with an approving smile. "Five points for Slytherin." The Gryffindor's present frowned at the awarded points feeling certain that Hermione, their resident bookworm and know-it all, had the answer as well if the Professor had just called upon her.

"Now when I open the door we will climb the stairs to the top of the tower. There is no need to push or shove as there will be plenty of room for everyone once we're at the top. The stairs are narrow as well as steep so do be careful when climbing them." Having said her piece the Professor turned and producing a key from within her robes unlocked the door before leading the class up to the top of the tower.

Harry followed Hermione who was directly behind Professor Sinistra, being first in line. He wasn't sure what to make of this class. Growing up he hadn't been let outside after dark so it was not often that he was able to see stars. As there were no windows in the cupboard under the stairs there was no chance of seeing any while in the house. Even on the few occasions when he did see them it was not for very long. While he had read some about the solar system in primary school, his knowledge was rather limited.

The stairs were narrow and curved steeply around the circumference of the tower ending in a set of straight stairs that cut back towards the heart of the tower. Thankfully there were torches affixed along the walls at adequate intervals to cast enough light to see by. The top of the stairs opened out into the center of the top of the tower which was flat and open to the sky. As soon as Harry stepped from the stairs he looked up only to note that the night sky was covered by heavy clouds.

"It doesn't look like we'll be seeing many stars tonight," Harry said to Hermione as they moved to the side to make room for the rest of the class which was making its way up the stairs and out onto the tower top. Harry couldn't keep the disappointment in his voice.

Professor Sinistra chuckled upon hearing the young wizard's words. "We'll be seeing plenty of stars tonight Mr. Potter. I assure you," she said before turning away to direct students away from the top of the stairs so that the rest of the class could join them.

Spread about the tower top were various telescopes and other instruments used to track stars and constellations. There were several tables set up about the tower top, each covered with charts and maps of a host of constellations and heavenly bodies.

"No need to worry about the edge of the tower," Sinistra said to her class noting that several students were giving the wall less edge of the tower a frightened eye. "The tower is charmed so that you can not fall off of it. It's quite safe I assure you." With an amused grin she noted that the students still remained a respectable distance from the edge of the tower. "Please take a few minutes to look over the various charts and instruments before we begin tonight's lesson."

"Harry, shall we pair up?" Hermione asked hesitantly, uncertain what the dark haired boy would want to do.

"If you wouldn't mind working with a Slytherin," Harry offered back with a small smile, hoping his attempt at humor was working.

"I think I'll manage somehow," the bushy haired witch responded with, a look of relief crossing her face.

**-oOo-**

Tracey Davis unrolled one of the scrolls on the table and peered at the planets that were shown on it. "It's hard to believe that all those little lights in the sky at night are other planets."

"They're not all planets. Some of them are suns as well," Daphne offered to correct her friend's words. The blonde witch had looked about upon first stepping onto the tower top and had quickly realized that there wasn't any place where they could get Harry alone to apologize in private. Besides the tables and telescopes the tower top was bare of any other items that might have offered some privacy from the rest of the class. The fact that Harry hadn't left Hermione's side hadn't escaped her notice either. The young Slytherin turned towards the table with a resigned sigh and looked down at the open scroll her friend held to prevent from rolling back up.

Tracey cringed internally upon hearing her best friend sigh heavily in defeat. "What are all these lines," she asked as her finger traced one of many circular lines. She had seen where Harry was and realized that they wouldn't be able to apologize during class. _The best I can do is hope to distract her for now_ , she reasoned.

"Orbit paths I would guess," Daphne offered as she looked closer at the scroll and the line Tracey was running her finger along. The white lines followed a curve that the planet would travel.

"Why would we need to know what orbit they followed?" Tracey enquired, her brow creasing in thought.

"Planet alignment as well as gravitational pull I would imagine," offered a nervous male voice hesitantly from behind the two witches causing them both to turn around with matching looks of disbelief.

"Harry?" Daphne voiced, surprised by the boy's presence and the fact he was talking to them.

"Potter?" Tracey said directly after her friend so it sounded as if they were saying his full name.

Harry glanced about nervously for a second, noticing that they were quickly drawing the attention of others near them. Swallowing heavily the young wizard pressed on with what he had decided to do. "I wanted to apologize for earlier. I acted like a prat and was rude to you both, which neither of you truly deserved."

One hand quickly rose and ran through his dark unruly hair as his nerves got the better of him. "I don't really have an excuse other than the fact that I am a prat and I don't do well with being the center of attention." Harry's gaze shifted down and away from the witches as he was keenly aware that almost everyone was now watching the three of them. Just past the two witches he could see Draco commenting to Crabbe and Goyle and by their reactions he was fairly certain their laughter was at his expense.

"I guess that's all then. Just wanted to say I'm sorry." Not waiting for a reply, he turned to make his way back to where he had left Hermione.

"Harry?" Daphne called after the departing boy, causing him to stop and slowly turn back toward her and Tracey. After a quick glance towards her friend, receiving approval she continued, "Do you think it would it be alright if Tracey and I joined you and Hermione? Perhaps we could work together as a group?"

Harry stood transfixed for a long moment, uncertain just how to answer. He would enjoy the added company, especially if it meant that he was forgiven for getting angry at them earlier. While he was fine with their company he didn't know how Hermione would feel about it and he didn't feel he should answer for her. Thankfully he was saved from having to do so.

"I think that would be a great idea," Hermione replied walking up beside Harry and addressing the two Slytherin witches. "It seems that Harry has already beaten us to the first points awarded for the class though," she added with a welcoming grin. Beside her The-Boy-Who-Lived felt his cheeks warm into a blush.

"That's twice now that he's done that," Daphne replied as a small smile appeared on her face as well. "We may have to start keeping a close eye on him," the blonde witch said as she walked the short distance over to where Harry and Hermione were standing.

Tracey who, had followed Daphne over, snorted behind her friend as she glanced about and noted everyone watching. "Way not to be the center of attention, Harry," she said softly enough for only the four of them to hear, causing Harry's cheeks to blush all the more in embarrassment.

"Oh its _Harry_ now is it?" Daphne asked, coming to the blushing boy's rescue as well as paying her friend back for her earlier question of the same nature. Glancing back towards her childhood friend she couldn't help but chuckle upon seeing the auburn-haired witch stick her tongue out at her in way of an answer.

"If you can call him that then so can I," Tracey added in a pouting tone of voice. "What else should I call him?" she asked seeing the smirk on her friends face. "The-Boy-Who-Lived is such a mouth full after all."

"Harry. Just Harry, please," quickly interjected the boy next to them. "I can do without all the other names or the attention they bring. I just want to be Harry," he finished with in a near pleading tone.

Tracey shot Daphne a smug look as Hermione turned to lead them over to the furthest table away from the stairs which wasn't currently being used. "Actually Harry," the Davis girl said in a more serious tone of voice upon reaching their destination, "I think I owe you an apology as well. I wasn't trying to have a go at you in the library but I see how it could have been taken that way," she told the listening boy.

"I'm sorry as well, Harry," Daphne was quick to add. "The last thing I wanted to do was offend you or push you away. You're an Outsider like us after all."

Harry noticed the questioning look from Hermione at the words of the other two girls. "It really wasn't a big deal. I think after everything that happen today I was a little on edge. Can we just forget it ever happened?"

Tracey nodded in agreement. "Friends then?" she asked with a bright smile. All three girls were confused upon seeing Harry's expression darken and his eyes drop to the table.

"Friends?" the young wizard asked in an even tone of voice, devoid of any emotion _. Can I be friends with them? Will it be the same as that one time_ , Harry wondered silently. Inside he wanted to trust them but he feared being hurt yet again.

"Is this Outsiders a special group or can anyone join?" Hermione asked in an attempt to give Harry a few moments to think over the answer to the offer of friendship. It was clear to the bushy-haired witch that something about being friends set the boy next to her into a defensive withdrawal into himself.

"It's only Slytherins currently," Tracey replied, the smile slowly slipping from her face as Harry had yet to respond favorably.

"The fact that she would be the only Gryffindor in the group would make her an Outsider as well I would think," Daphne offered while worriedly eyeing the boy next to her who was absently playing with the edge of a scroll with one finger. "Maybe we could all be friends?"

The three witches exchanged looks, uncertain what could be the matter with Harry. Finally Tracey spoke up into the silence, "It's alright if you'd rather not be friends with us Harry. It would certainly be a Slytherin thing not to have any friends after all."

"No…it's not that," Harry finally said in little more than a whisper. "I…I haven't had much luck with friends," he confessed as the part of him that longed for companionship struggled to assert itself before the boy's own protective tendencies of self-preservation could shut him down from accepting the offer.

Tracey chuckled slightly. "Certainly all your friends couldn't have been bad, Harry. How many have you had?" she asked, believing that like herself he must at least have a handful of friends he got on good with.

There was a long pause before the boy replied, "One….maybe…I mean I think." Harry had never really been able to decide if his classmate had actually been his friend or had just pretended to be _. If he was in it with Dudley then he was never a friend_ , he reasoned. _If that's the case then I've never really had a friend_. Even he knew just how depressing that fact was which was perhaps why he'd never been able to decide the matter. _Better to have a friend that betrayed you then never having a friend at all._

Daphne's hand flew to her mouth in an attempt to stifle a gasp of dismay, an attempt which failed miserably. Hermione and Tracey were both too shocked to respond in any fashion and just stood there with their mouths ajar. _How can anyone go through their life without any friends?_ the blonde witch wondered. It was only then that she recalled the abuse Harry had received and her heart went out to the boy standing next to her. She couldn't help but feel that may have played no small measure into the fact. She could understand that for one abused it might be very hard to trust someone else.

Harry quickly looked up at the gasp from Daphne and the blonde witch was able to look directly into the boy's eyes. She saw within those emerald orbs a mixture of fear and pain but also an over whelming look of longing. "Be our friend, Harry," she pleaded as she reached out and took his hand in both of hers. "I don't know how your friend was or what they did to you but we're not them. We'd never do anything to hurt you!" Daphne gave the hand in her a small squeeze to indicate the truth of her words.

"Please, Harry," Hermione pleaded, taking his other hand in hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze. The young Gryffindor witch was all too aware of what it felt like to be without friends, having none herself. Once again is struck her just how much Harry and she had in common with each other.

"Don't tell me you're going to say no to three wonderful witches that want to be friends with you?" Tracey asked with a knowing grin.

Harry's eyes dropped to look at the top of the table once more, "I…I don't know how to be a friend," he admitted to the three witches who all shared a knowing look realizing that he hadn't actually said no.

A small smile of hope blossomed on Daphne's face at hearing his words. A quick glance to the other two witches and she saw the same smiles as she currently wore. "I'm sure between the four of us we can figure it out, Harry."

"I…I've never really had a friend before either," Hermione stated in a soft voice, embarrassed to admit to the fact. "So you're not the only one new to this, Harry." Both Slytherin witches stared at the brunette witch in surprise at her admission.

The head of the wizard in question shot up and quickly focused on the bushy-haired witch with a hopeful, almost pleading look upon his feature. "Really?" he asked in disbelief. He couldn't see why any normal person wouldn't want to be friends with Hermione or any of the three witches arrayed around him. _If I wasn't a freak with wild magic I would have already asked her to be friends with me._

Hermione nodded to his question. "For some reason I've never really been good at making friends with others. Mum said that people feel intimidated around me because of how much I read and everything that I know." The young witch's cheeks blushed as she shrugged slightly seeing the disbelief in the boy's eyes. "I've always wanted friends; it just never seems to work out."

"Sounds like someone I know," Tracey offered as she pointedly looked in Daphne's direction.

"What? I can't help it if I'm smart," Daphne snapped in a defensive tone of voice which caused Harry to smile slightly.

"Be my first friend Harry and let me be yours?" Hermione pleaded bringing the boy's captured hand to her chest. "U…unless you think I'm too much of a bookworm or know-it-all," she added in a voice tinged with fear at the possibility that Harry felt that way.

Harry swallowed heavily, seeing the anxious look upon Hermione's face he knew that he wouldn't be able to say no to her, or to any of them for that matter. The young wizard knew that he desperately wanted friends and he was willing to risk being hurt again if that meant that he might have even one. Looking at the waiting Gryffindor witch he finally gathered his courage and replied, "I would very much like to be your friend, Hermione. If you'll have me? I would like to be friends with all of you," he quickly added looking to the other two girls with them but not before seeing the blinding smile Hermione suddenly sported at hearing his words.

Daphne felt her lips pull back in a wide smile as Harry accepted being friends with all of them. _Nice Granger!_ The blonde Slytherin had to give the other witch credit, finding the perfect manner in which to ask Harry to be friends with her. _She would have made a good Slytherin perhaps_. Daphne shot Tracey a look only to see her grinning as well. _No need to mention that I was Hermione's friend first_ , she reasoned recalling their discussion in the library. _At least I think that meant that we were already friends…maybe not_ , she couldn't decide now.

"That was very touching. If the four of you are now finished perhaps we can carry on with the class?" an amused voice queried from behind the four of them. All four students turned to find Professor Sinistra regarding them with a soft smile. Daphne and Hermione quickly released Harry's hands which they were still holding as all four students cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Too bad the rest of the class didn't get to see it," Aurora said as she waved her wand, dismissing the privacy ward she had discreetly raised around the quartet. "It really was very sweet."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said, stepping forward so that he was in front of the three girls. "I should have paid more attention," he stammered not really noticing the approving tone of the Professor's words. "I didn't mean to cause you and troubles. I had some concerns and they were just helping me with them. The fault is entirely mine."

"The fault was all of ours, Professor," Daphne corrected, stepping forward and laying a hand on Harry's arm while wrapping the other around it in an attempt to forestall him from objecting. The blonde witch didn't miss Harry's head turning to look at her as he started to object. Thankfully a distraction came from his other side in the form of a bushy-haired Gryffindor witch.

"Our apologies, Professor Sinistra," Hermione offered as she stepped to the other side of Harry while at the same time slipping her hand around his arm and grasping it gently. "We were rather distracted," she added, noting the boy's head swiveling in her direction at her words. "It was careless of us." From the corner of her eye she could just make out the confused look on Harry's face as he gapped at her.

"It won't happen again," Tracey piped up with coming up behind the Boy-Who-Lived and settling a hand on each of his shoulders as she leaned forward slightly between him and Daphne so that the Professor could see her.

Harry, surrounded by witches on every side, even in front were one to consider the Professor, could do little more than surrender. It was clear to the young boy that his new friends were not about to allow him to take all the blame for the disruption to the class. "We're sorry," he offered in a soft voice.

Sinistra smiled in a reassuring manner towards the four students. She hadn't failed to notice how Harry had stepped forward first and positioned himself between her and the three witches as if he was protecting them. Nor did she miss how quickly the three witches stepped forward to share the blame. "I did say it was a touching moment did I not?" she asked. "I would hate to have missed it due to something as mundane as an astronomy lesson. However, in the future let's try to find a more discreet location when professing ones…friendship," she offered with an arched brow and a knowing smile.

All four students quickly nodded in agreement.

Aurora turned with a soft chuckle and led the students over to the middle of the tower area. "Everyone gather round," the Professor instructed as she waved her hands, motioning for everyone to come in closer. "As this is an astronomy class I think it would be prudent if we looked at some stars, wouldn't you?"

"It's well near impossible with all these clouds, Professor," Ron Weasley whined as he pointed to the sky above them as if to prove his point.

"Then I guess we'll just have to do something about that Mr. Weasley," the Professor stated as she lifted her wand and made several sharp gestures in the air. To the astonishment of all the students the clouds parted, rolling back as if they were some giant curtains, exposing the night sky above.

Harry gazed at the wondrous vision that had appeared above them. The night sky was alight with more stars than could possibly be counted. The three witches huddled around him all gasped and suddenly found reason to grasp ahold of him once again in their excitement. "It's amazing," he breathed ethereally, to astonished to say more than that at the moment.

"It's beautiful!" Daphne gasped tightening her hold on Harry's arm in her excitement.

"I never knew there were so many stars," Hermione confessed as she wound both of her arms around Harry's, drawing closer to the boy without even realizing it.

Tracey looked from her best friend to her newest friend, Hermione and couldn't help but grin at how alike they both looked at that moment. Each clutching onto Harry while gazing spell bound up at the heavens. While she couldn't see the boy's face she was certain that he was just as gobsmacked as they all were. Feeling a bit left out she placed her hands on the boy's shoulder and pulled herself forward while drawing Harry back against her chest, "I'm glad we all got to share this together," she said as she once again looked up at the brilliant night sky.

"Can anyone tell us the name of the brightest star in the heavens?" Professor Sinistra enquired after several minutes of allowing her charges to admire the stars above. "Ms. Granger?" the Professor said upon seeing the Gryffindor's hand shoot up first.

"That would be the Loadstar, or Polaris as it is more commonly known these days," Hermione replied with a small smile.

"Very good, Ms. Granger. Five points for Gryffindor." Hermione's smile brightened considerably at the awarded points. "In the 14th century it was indeed known as lodestar or 'guiding star', cognate with the Old Norse leiðarstjarna and Middle High German leitsterne. Polaris has only been used since the 17th century in English."

"Professor," Parvati Patil spoke up, continuing only after receiving a nod of permission from Sinistra, "In Indian astronomy, its name is Sanskrit dhruva tāra. It literally translates to 'fixed star'. Its name in medieval Islamic astronomy was Mismar 'needle, nail', al-kutb al-shamaliyy 'the northern axle/spindle', al-kaukab al-shamaliyy 'north star', depending on which expert you talk to," the small witch concluded with a nervous smile, glad for once of her interest in astronomy forced upon her and her sister by their father.

"Thank you Ms. Patil. Perhaps you should have been in Ravenclaw with your sister, Dear. Five points to Gryffindor for your contribution." Parvati's Housemates were quick to congratulate her on the awarded points.

Hermione glanced over and saw Lavender Brown, Sally-Anne Perks and Lily Moon all huddled around the petite Indian girl, giving her hugs while offering their congratulations. Previously the scene would have been witnessed with a pain of longing and a little bit of jealousy as well for something she herself didn't have. Now, with friends of her own, the young witch only felt happiness for her housemate.

"Alright then, I would like you to split into groups of four and use the telescopes provided for you to find and look at the Loadstar. Your homework will be a report, a third of a scroll long, on how the star has been used throughout history." The Professor couldn't help but grin at the groans that issued from the male students and even a few of the girls as well. "It's not that bad, you'll have an entire week to write it after all," she reminded them.

"Do you think we can all meet in the library and work on it together?" Harry asked. "Maybe Blaise can come as well?"

All three witches shared glances having noticed Harry was probably the only boy who hadn't groaned at the homework assignment. "I think that's a brilliant idea, Harry!" Tracey was first to speak up. "I'll check with Zabini to make certain he wants to." It was quickly agreed upon that they would meet after dinner that evening.

Aurora made her way about the rooftop helping each group with the use of the telescope. Many of the students had never even seen one before and so had no clue how to operate one. She found it very hard to contain herself when she found a group of boys from Gryffindor looking through the wrong end of the device. As the night wore on into the wee morning hours she finally made her way to the last group of students.

"I think its Harry's turn to take a look, Granger," Tracey was saying to the bushy-haired witch who was currently looking through the telescope intently.

"It's alright, I don't mind, Tracey," Harry said to placate the auburn haired Slytherin. "I can wait to have a look."

"I wouldn't mind another look," Daphne added, "so you have to go first Harry. That way we've each had a chance to look at it."

"Really, it's alright," Harry reiterated once again upon seeing Hermione stand and step away from the telescope.

"That's just amazing! Harry you have to see this!" Hermione exclaimed to the only boy in their group as she hastily motioned him over.

Harry sighed inwardly, not really caring if he had a look or not. He was more than happy to let the other three have more turns while he continued to just admire the sky above. _It won't matter anyways_ , he thought silently to himself. It had been many years since he last had the prescription adjusted on his glasses and so most things up close were blurred and hard to see, especially when right up next to his eyes. He always kept the books he read at a good distance which made them a bit easier to read. More often than not he would receive a headache when reading but it was a small price to pay he felt for the enjoyment reading brought him. He was just about to beg off once again when he was stopped by a stern voice behind him.

"I did say that everyone had to take a turn, did I not Mr. Potter?" Sinistra said.

Harry audibly gulped before he replied, "Yes, Professor," he offered as he walked to the telescope. The Boy-Who-Lived did not fail to notice the barely suppressed smiles of the three witches near him. He did however miss the wink that the Professor shot to all three witches behind his back, which only caused the three smiles to grow larger.

Removing his glasses Harry leaned forward and looked through the small end of the telescope at the white blur. "It's very nice. Bright also," he said before stepping away and returning his glasses to their usual resting place before his eyes.

Hermione gapped at Harry. "That's it?" she asked incredulously. "That's all you have to say?"

Harry saw Daphne and Tracey both looking at him in disbelief as well. "I guess I'm just not into is as much as you three are," he replied a defensively moving away from the telescope to where he had been before.

"Mr. Potter, when was the last time your eyes were checked?" Sinistra enquired tentatively.

"Please Professor, call me Harry. Mr. Potter makes me sound so old," he offered with a disarming smile that was infectious. "My eyes and glasses are as fine as they are going to be, Professor. Thank you for asking," he added. _The last thing I need is to return home with a new pair of glasses. Uncle Vernon would want to know where I got the money for them from._ The young wizard wouldn't put it past his uncle to beat it out of him should he resist.

The one time he had accepted someone's charity he had been accused of stealing by his uncle. The subsequent beating was one of the worst he had ever received. All through the beating his aunt had yelled in her shrill voice about how bad it would have made her normal family look if the freak living with them had gotten caught. That night had ended in a trip to the local hospital and a cast on his left leg and right arm…both of which made it very hard to cook breakfast the next morning.

Aurora Sinistra hadn't been a teacher for very long when compared to some of the staff at Hogwarts, such as Professor McGonagall or Sprout, but she had an uncanny ability to read the students under her care. She could tell right away that there was something off with the boy's answer. Perhaps it was the manner in which he tried to deflect the conversation away from his eyes and to his name or the disarming smile he offered to ease her fears. _He's hiding something_ , of that fact she was certain. "Very well, Mr…Harry. Should you need to be seen please be sure to let me know."

Harry visibly relaxed as soon as he realized the Professor wasn't going to push the matter. "Thank you Professor. I will be sure to do that," he said with a warm smile. Turning back to the other three with him he looked at Daphne, "I guess that makes it your turn, Daphne." Not waiting for a reply Harry turned and walked past the witches.

Sinistra sighed and watched as the underfed boy walked to the very edge of the tower, something no one else that evening had the courage to do, and stared up at the millions of stars in the night sky. "Not into it as much as them," she scoffed under her breath as she observed the look upon the boy's face. _I used to have that same look upon my face when I was his age and I gazed up at the celestial bodies above._ "Continue to take turns till it is time to return to your dorms," she told the three remaining first years before offering them a sympathetic smile and turned to see to the rest of her class. _I'll have to start keeping an eye out for him. I owe the Potters too much not to!_

Harry stood at the very edge of the tower, the tips of his shoes sticking slightly over the lip. Standing there he could feel a small breeze blowing and its cool touch upon his face felt refreshing. It was only then that he realized that when they were by the telescope there hadn't been any wind or chill at all. This was Scotland after all, there was always a wind here and it was the middle of the night so it should, by all rights, be cold. _It must be warded_ , he reasoned.

The young wizard's thoughts quickly shifted to the events of this day. _How did I get to suddenly have three friends? What do I even do with them?_ Harry gazed at the stars above while his mind worked over his concerns. One thing he knew for certain was that he had no clue what a friend was. _If I disregard how Draco treats Crabbe and Goyle, as well as how Dudley treats his friends, what does that leave me with?_

"Harry?" spoke a soft and hesitant voice behind him. "What are you doing?" Daphne enquired coming to stand beside her housemate. The blonde witch had cut her turn short just so that she could follow after the young wizard.

"I have no clue," Harry told her honestly referring to his own inner thoughts more than her direct question itself.

The blonde Slytherin, suspecting that his answer was not to her own question but something else, remained quiet to give him time to process whatever thoughts were weighing heavily upon his mind.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do any more," the boy next to her finally said as he dropped his gaze from the sky above to look out over the darkness. "Everything I know is back in London. Here I feel….lost. Does that make any sense?" he asked turning expectantly to regard the girl beside him who was now staring at him rather than the stars.

"I think I know what you mean. My Mum and Dad, even my younger sister, are back home. Leaving them behind and being here on my own if a little frightening," Daphne offered, feeling a small pain of homesickness and a longing to see her sister.

"How…how do you know what to do then?" Harry asked.

"I don't," Daphne admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. "I just know that they will be there when I go home and till then I do the best I can. Seeing them again and being able to hug Astoria once more gives me something to look forward to and keeps me going, Harry."

Beside her Harry seemed to ponder her words for several long minutes before he responded in a voice so quiet that she nearly missed it, "Were it only that simple." Catching his words she quickly recalled what his home life must be like and she wished that she hadn't said what she had. Standing there the silence between then stretched on.

Leaning forward Daphne peered over the edge of the tower and instantly regretted it. Gasping she jerked back and unconsciously grabbed his hand so that she would have something to hold onto. In her hand she felt Harry's fingers tighten reassuringly.

"It's alright I got you," Harry assured her with a small smile meant to be reassuring rather than amused at her expense. "Remember, it's warded so that you can't fall off." Harry tightened his grip around her hand slightly still feeling her trembling from the perceived danger of falling from the tower.

"It doesn't feel that way when you're looking down into blackness," she stammered as she looked into his emerald eyes.

Harry leaned out to have a look and instantly felt her grip become more desperate, nearly crushing his hand in hers. The young wizard looked down and it appeared as though the darkness just went on and on with no end in sight. _It's like if you were to fall you'd just keep going and never hit bottom_. "It doesn't look that bad," Harry offered as he leaned back, hoping to make the drop less traumatic for her by saying so.

Daphne quickly turned and rested her forehead against the boy's shoulder. "Easy for you to say," she quipped in a shaky voice, only slightly releasing her death grip on his hand as she tried to calm down.

"Let's move back a pace if it bothers you that much," Harry offered, truly concerned for the witch leaning against him.

Suiting actions to words he took a slow shuffled step back with Daphne pacing him closely so she didn't have to remove her head from its resting place. "Thank you, Harry," Daphne whispered in relief once they were back from the edge of the tower.

"What's out there?" Tracey asked as she walked over. Not waiting to be told the auburn haired witch walked right up to the edge of the tower and leaned out without a care in the world. The wards held her in place at an angle that gravity would have insured her quick plummet to the base of the tower.

"TRACEY!" Daphne yelled upon opening an eye and seeing her friend hanging in midair as she saw it.

Harry grimaced as a death grip once again assaulted his hand where the blonde clenched it in fear. "I think you're scaring her, Tracey," he managed to get out in as even a tone as he could manage. "Perhaps it would be best if you didn't lean out like that."

"What and miss the fun of seeing her scared senseless?" Tracey replied with a large grin. "Fine," she said upon seeing the pleading look upon both their faces. Pushing off the ward she stood back up and even stepped back a pace from the edge to stand near them.

"Thanks, Tracey," Harry said as the vice-like pressure on his hand let up enough for circulation to finally be restored.

"What did I miss?" Hermione asked as she joined the other three with a quizzical look upon her face.

"I was just reminding Daphne of her fear of heights," Tracey was quick to provide with a grin.

"You didn't have to," Daphne said in a small and meek voice, her body still trembling in fear.

"That's what friends are for," quipped Tracey with a large smile, evidently pleased with herself.

"Is that what friends are for?" Harry had to ask beginning to think that perhaps he had made a mistake after all.

"NO!" Daphne and Hermione said simultaneously. Tracey just looked at them both and grinned all the more.

"Well, sometimes," Daphne finally offered reluctantly taking her head from Harry's shoulder to glare at her best friend.

"Friends are good for keeping you humble," Tracey tried to explain. "Though not in a malicious way, mind you."

Harry thought about it for a moment before he replied. "So you just wanted to scare her a little bit and you used her fear of heights to do that?"

"Exactly!" Tracey exclaimed.

Harry looked at each of them, "I don't think I could scare you guys," he offered apologetically suddenly feeling like he couldn't be a good friend if that's what it took to be one.

Hermione was quick to step to the boy's side and grasp his free hand in hers in reassurance. "You can still be a good friend and not scare us, Harry," she told him as she gave a gentle squeeze of his hand in hers. "We can leave the scaring to Tracey," the Gryffindor witch offered.

"Fine with me!" Tracey said with a mischievous gleam in her brown eyes as if she was already plotting just how to accomplish it.

"Morgana help us!" Daphne said just loud enough for all of them to hear. All four couldn't help but chuckle at the blonde's explanative.

"Have you guys noticed anything funny?" Harry asked after a few moments.

"You mean other than the fact that we're not all guys?" Tracey quipped with a crooked grin. Harry blushed slightly not having intended to refer to them as boys. "It's alright Harry, we knew what you meant," she quickly assured the only boy in their midst upon seeing his cheeks turn a nice shade of pink. _Cute_ , she thought to herself.

"Yes, other than that," Harry offered in an attempting to continue without further embarrassing himself. "I mean about the sky." All four of them looked up at the beautiful star filled sky above them. "Now look down," he told them.

"I…I'd rather not," Daphne stammered, the pressure oh Harry's hand increasing slightly.

"No, not at the ground at the base of the tower," he clarified quickly, turning to look at the blonde witch next to him. "Just look out there," he said thrusting his chin out as both hands were currently being held captive by the witch on either side of him.

Once again all three witches looked in the direction he indicated and saw nothing but darkness. "I don't understand," Hermione final said, giving voice to what the three girls were all thinking.

"What's out there?" Harry asked indicating the darkness once again. Seeing the confused looks he groaned. "I'll give you a clue, it's big and it's wet," he offered them in a slightly exasperated voice.

"Black Lake?" Tracey hazarded in a questioning tone of voice, clearly not certain but willing to risk a guess.

"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed triumphantly. Seeing the looks of uncertainty he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes in disbelief. "Look up again," he instructed. "Now look down again," he said only after seeing all three look up. "What do you see?" Harry waited, knowing that at least two of them were very bright witches. He did not know Tracey well enough yet to know just how smart the girl was but he was still fairly certain one of them would get it very soon.

"Nothing!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise as she finally caught on.

"There's no reflection of the stars above," Daphne was quick to add having come to the same conclusion a split second after the Gryffindor girl.

"It's an illusion!" Tracey gapped in surprise at the revelation. "How did none of us notice it sooner?"

The sound of clapping behind them caused all four students to turn at the unexpected noise. "Well done, Harry," Professor Sinistra said with an appreciative smile. "You're the only one to have realized it tonight. I think that is worth ten points for Slytherin. Being an Astronomer is a great deal about being observant of the universe around us. That means what is far away," Aurora gestured to the stars above, "as well as what is right in front of us," she added as she motioned in the direction of Black lake."

"So the telescopes…." Hermione started to ask.

"Charmed," the Professor offered before the girl could finish her question. "It would take far too much time for a single Professor to show each and every first year student the proper way to use a telescope in the first night," she explained. "Usually by the third or fourth week they have the hang of it and the charms can be removed. I noticed your group didn't seem to have any issues with yours?"

"My parents bought me my first telescope for my sixth birthday," Hermione confessed, "so I've been using them for years already. I do have to admit though that we never get a view like this while in London."

"That is mostly due to the city lights," Aurora offered in way of explanation. "You have to get far away from the city lights to see anything worth seeing." Hermione nodded in acceptance of this knowledge.

"It is past the end of the class, so all of you had best return to your dorms and get some sleep. These are passes in case you happen to be questioned about being out so late," she said handing each of them a slip of paper. "Once you reach your dorms the paper will return to me so no need worrying about returning them." The four of them looked about the tower top and realized they were the only ones left. They each thanked the Professor as they took the offered slips of paper and headed down the stairs.

"Well, I'm this way," Hermione said, motioning off to the left as they reached the hallway at the bottom of the tower.

"Alright," Harry said turning and heading in that direction she had indicated.

"Wait, Harry," Hermione said reaching out and catching his arm before he had gone more than a step. "The stairway is that way," she said point off to the right."

"I know," the dark haired boy replied casually as he turned and regarded her, "I'll walk you back to your dorm before going to mine."

"We'll all walk you there," Tracey quickly said before Hermione could object.

"O…okay," the brunette witch managed to say as she fell into step beside Harry, her arm threading between the boy's body and his arm. _No one has ever wanted to walk me home!_ Inside the young witch her chest felt far warmer than it ever had before. _So this is what it's like to have friends?_ The young Gryffindor stole a sideways glance at the boy whose arm she currently had a gentle grip on. _Harry wanted to make certain I got back safely_ , she mused in disbelief. _He does care about me!_

Upon reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady Hermione turned to face the trio, "Well, this is it," she said as her eyes found Harry's as she chewed the inside of her lip nervously. _What if I wake up tomorrow and this was all just a dream? What if they decide they made a mistake and don't want to be friends any longer? How do I even say goodbye?_

"Well it was fun," Harry stammered uncertain of what to do next. "I…umm…you see I don't know the proper way that friends say goodbye," he finally confessed with a pink glow of embarrassment in his cheeks. Behind him he could hear Tracey, or so he guessed it to be, trying to keep from laughing. "I mean we're friends now so I want to make certain I'm doing it properly," he stammered suddenly uncertain of what to say or do.

Hermione watched Harry's nervousness grow as he tried to explain he wanted to do the right thing. Suddenly she realized that he felt the same way that she did. _He's cute when he's nervous_ , she suddenly found herself thinking. Before she knew what she was doing she hurled herself at Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "Thank you, Harry for being my friend," she whispered in his ear suddenly finding that she needed to fight back the tears of happiness that threatened to escape from her eyes. The young witch nearly gasped when she felt his arms come up and encircle her waist snuggly. It was the first time a boy had ever hugged her.

Harry froze as he suddenly had a face full of strawberry scented bushy brown hair. Realizing that he couldn't put his arms around her shoulders as she was doing he settled for slipping them around her slender waist instead. "Thank you Hermione for being my first friend," he whispered back after hearing her words in his ear. He was certain but he thought he heard her sniffle slightly as she made to draw away once more.

The two of them separated awkwardly and with slightly bashful smiles. Hermione waved to Tracey and Daphne before whispering the password to the portrait and disappearing within. It would be some time before the young Gryffindor would fall asleep as she marveled at how wonderful it felt to have friends for the first time in her life.

The two remaining witches each took an arm and led the boy towards the Grande Stairway. "This is the proper way for a gentleman to escort a lady home at the end of the evening," Tracey was quick to point out when Harry started to object. Still uncertain, but willing to learn, Harry relented and continued with a witch on either arm as they made their way down the stairs.

"Harry, what happened with Professor Snape?" Daphne suddenly asked her voice overly loud in the silence. Several paintings hushed her angrily before returning to their interrupted slumber.

"He took five House points and I have detention after breakfast in the morning," he replied in a quiet voice so as not to disturb any of the portraits on the walls.

"But you'll hardly get any sleep," Daphne protested as strenuously as one can while trying to keep their voice low.

Harry shrugged as if it didn't really matter. "I'll get some," he finally offered. His response drew displeasing looks from both of the girls with him. "There's isn't anything I can do about it now so I'll just make the best of it," he added as it was the truth.

"What happened to Malfoy?" Tracey asked to which Harry could do little more than shrug as he didn't know. "He should get punished as well for that stunt that he pulled. At least you got the remembrall away from the little prat. Did Professor Snape ask for it?"

"No, I still have it," Harry replied as his hand checked to make certain it was still in the pocket of his robe. "I was going to return it to the Longbottom boy tonight but he wasn't in class."

"If he broke his arm in that fall he might have to stay overnight in the hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey repairs it," Daphne offered.

The three of them finally stepped from the Grande Stairway and headed towards the entrance to the dungeons. Apparently the stairs were less active at night which made it considerably easier to descend to the bottom floor. Before long they were walking through the hidden entrance to the Slytherin common room.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief, well ready for bed after the day he'd had. "I'm sorry once again for acting like such a prat to the both of you in the library," he said remorsefully turning to regard the two witches with him after closing the door he had been holding open for them. "I hope you can forgive me and I'll try never to do that again."

"Still dwelling on that are we?" Tracey scoffed. "That's in the past Harry so you can just put it behind you. I think we both can forgive you if you can forgive us," she said with a glance towards Daphne who quickly nodded in agreement.

"Right then," Harry said, running one hand through his unruly locks. "Well good night then and pleasant dreams to you both," he offered as he turned to head towards the entrance to the boy's dormitory. The clearing of a throat behind him made the boy pause and turn to look back at the two witches.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Tracey asked with a small grin. Seeing the confused look on the boy's face she threw her arms open wide, "I want my friendship hug just like Granger got!"

"Tracey!" Daphne gasped blushing at the other girl's audacity. Inside she was relieved, wondering just how she was going to get her hug from Harry. _Trust Tracey to have already figured out a way._

"Right," Harry said turning back and crossing to the auburn-haired witch with a slightly guilty expression for having forgotten, "still new to this and learning as I go," he offered in way of excuse as he slipped his arms around her waist and gave her a hug.

Tracey grinned and she threw her arms around Harry and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "It's alright if you don't whisper anything in my ear as you did Granger's but Daphne may feel a little left out if you don't do that to her."

"Thanks," Harry whispered back before awkwardly letting the witch go.

"Not too bad, Harry," Tracey offered critically. "I think we're going to have to work on the hugs a bit more though before you have them correct. I'm sure between the four of us we'll get it sorted out in a few days. Granger seems to be exceptionally good at hugging after all," she added with a mischievous grin.

"Right. I'll give it my best," Harry said, getting the feeling he was being teased in some manner yet not certain just how.

Harry turned towards the waiting Daphne and opened his arms slightly, "Daphne," he said only to feel a push from behind upon his shoulders.

"Lesson number one. The boy always walks to the girl," Tracey told him from behind his left shoulder. "It's considered very rude to make her come to you."

Harry was fairly certain that Hermione had come to him both times they had hugged so he wasn't at all certain if what he was being told was the truth but he decided it was best to do as told. Stepping forward he slipped his arms around the petite girl's waist and felt her arms encircle his neck as she pulled him closer.

Daphne quickly slipped her arms around Harry's next and pulled him into a hug. The first thing she noticed was that she was only slightly shorter than he was. This was a small surprise as she was rather petite and hence not overly tall, meaning most boys and even others girls were considerably taller than she was. This realization was quickly followed by the scent of apples. It wasn't an unpleasant scent at all though she did puzzle over it for a fleeting moment. _Why would a boy smell like apples?_

Tracey's whispered words ran through the Slytherin boy's mind once again yet he couldn't think of anything. It didn't help that he was nervous and it felt far warmer in the room than he recalled the common room being at any other time. Harry's brain scrambled for something to say to the blonde girl but it was a blank so he said the first thing that came to mind, "You smell nice." It wasn't a lie as he did think she smelled nice. He couldn't place a name to the scent but he found it comforting in some manner.

Daphne leaned her head against Harry's shoulder upon hearing his words and before she could help it a small giggle escaped her lips. Feeling Harry stiffen in her arms and start to move away from her she tightened her hold upon him. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized realizing her actions could look like she was laughing at him. "I was just thinking the same thing about you and I couldn't help but find it funny."

"I smell nice?" Harry asked in a disbelieving tone of voice as he drew his head back to look at the girl hugging him still.

Daphne nodded before tilting her head back as well and looking at the first boy she had ever hugged. "Like apples," she clarified with a slight grin. _I think I could get used to Harry's hugs_ , she thought to herself only to feel her cheeks begin to warm into a blush.

Harry's eyes lit up in understanding, "I have an apple in my pocket," he told her.

"So that's your secret," Daphne replied playfully. Seeing Harry's arched brow in question she added, "Sorry I can't say the same, nothing in my pockets but my wand at the moment and you've already declined seeing it."

"So you just naturally smell nice?" Harry asked as the petite girl dropped her arms from around his neck.

Daphne shrugged to show her uncertainty. "You tell me. I can't really smell myself I mean. Girls usually smell better than boys, at least that's what my Mum always tells me."

Harry thought for a moment before replying, "Well, I think you smell nice," he told her honestly. "You'll…uh…well," he paused as he nervously ran a hand through his hair making it even messier than it already was, "you'll tell me if I start to…you know?" he asked anxiously.

"Stink?" Daphne prompted with a small teasing grin only to see him nod slightly. "Sure, that's what friends are for," she replied with a genuine smile that made her blue eyes sparkle in a way Harry found he rather enjoyed, even if it did leave him feeling slightly confused.

"Speaking of friends, it appears as though we're short one," Harry said only then noticing that Tracey had already escaped into the girl's dormitory, leaving them alone.

Daphne glanced around at his words realizing it was just the two of them in the common room. "I'm sure she thought it was very funny to slip out like that. She's probably listening just inside the door or something."

"Maybe she was just tired," Harry offered in Tracey's defense. "Speaking of which, I should really let you get to sleep. I'm certain you're tired too."

"Thanks for being there for me tonight," Daphne said, dropping her eyes. Reaching out she grasped his hand gently in hers and looked at it rather than looking at him, "I hope I didn't hurt your hand? I know I was squeezing it pretty hard. I couldn't help it, I was really scared."

Harry flexed his fingers to show her they were alright, his movements ending with his hand around hers as it had been up on the astronomy tower. "No, I'm fine," he assured her with a gentle squeeze.

"Harry…can…I have another hug?" the blonde witch asked in a soft voice, suddenly feeling a little frightened after thinking about the edge of the tower once again.

Without saying a word Harry stepped forward and slipped his arms once more around the girl's tiny waist and pulled her in close as her arms encircled his neck once again.

"Thanks for always being there for me, Harry," Daphne said softly with her lips directly next to his ear. "First on the train you rescued me and now on the tower top tonight."

"I'll always be there for you, Daphne," Harry promised without even thinking.

"Somehow I know you will be, Harry," she said as she began to pull away.

Harry dropped his arms to let her go and was totally unprepared for the chaste kiss the young witch placed upon his cheek.

"Good night, Harry," Daphne said with blushing cheeks as she hurried into the girl's dormitory.

"Good night, Daphne," a dazed Harry replied moments later to the otherwise now empty commons room. Turning and making his way to the entrance to the boy's dormitory he couldn't help but wonder if Blaise and he became friends would he have to hug him as well?


	10. Perfect Sense

Harry opened his eyes and blinked several times, slowly waking up. Still not fully cognizant, he raised his hands and absently rubbed the sleep from his eyes before reaching to the bedside table for his glasses. _Where did I put them?_ he wondered as his questing fingers failed to find the spectacles where they should be. Turning his head he looked to the table as much as he could with it being a rather white blur due to not having his glasses. The movement of turning his head set off a painful throbbing in his head that saw him quickly returning his head to its former position before closing his eyes. It was only then that he took stock of his current surrounding.

Tentatively opening his eyes slowly, he saw that the ceiling above him was at a far greater distance than it should have been were he still in the Slytherin boy's dormitory. It was also the wrong color, being a rather bright white whereas the dormitory was typically bathed in a pale greenish hue, as were most things within Slytherin House. Without his glasses to help him see, everything close to him was little more than a colored blur, though even most of that was white in nature. Given his reclining position and the fact that he could feel the covers over him, he quickly came to the conclusion that he was lying in a bed. Where and who's were questions as yet unanswered. _Well, at least I didn't have to sleep on the couch again_ , he thought, grateful for that fact.

Glancing about as much as one could without moving their head he could see that he was surrounded by blindly bright white walls on all sides except for a small opening towards the foot of his bed. The bright light hurt his eyes and caused his head to throb painfully. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and lifted his head far enough to look through the opening he had seen, in an attempt to determine where exactly he was.

"Great. I'm in the hospital again," he said softly to himself as he dropped his head back onto the pillow and waited for the wave of dizziness that had assaulted him to pass. Lying there he tried to recall how he had come to be lying in a bed in the hospital wing of Hogwarts once again. The young wizard was somewhat relieved that he at least knew where he was at, though he remained perplexed on how he had gotten there.

_There was the astronomy class with Professor Sinistra. I was there with Hermione, Daphne and Tracey,_ he recalled _._ Harry remembered the events that transpired out beneath the stars and still found it hard to believe. _Whatever am I going to do? I don't know what to do with a single friend and now suddenly I have three. Four possibly as I somehow doubt that Blaise will want to be left out of our group. Daphne said he was an Outsider as well after all._

Harry wasn't certain about the dark skinned boy. The once and only time he had trusted someone to be his friend had been a boy at his primary school. That had turned out disastrously for him. He realized that while he still had fears with the three witches from last night, he was at least marginally accepting of them for the simple fact that they were girls. Of his three relatives his aunt had been the least mean to him, though not by any great degree. Still it left him with a kinder disposition towards females in general _. I think I'll have to think about Blaise a bit more before I can decide_ , he realized.

_What do friends do together?_ The young wizard pondered that question for several long moments, forgetting that he still had no clue as why he was once again in the Hogwarts Hospital wing. _That's right!_ he suddenly realized that they were to meet to work on their Astronomy homework today. _So perhaps friends study together?_

_I don't think I recall Dudley ever studying with his friends._ The more Harry pondered that the more he began to realize that he had never actually seen his cousin studying, ever. _Perhaps that was why his grades are so poor_. Harry had poor grades in school as well, at least as far as his aunt and uncle knew he did.

It was during his first year of schooling that Harry had learned that doing well in school was a sure way to a right smart bottom. He had been so proud of his first test, having gotten all the answers correct. The teacher had even drawn a star and smiley face next to the grade. The young Harry had carried the paper all the way home just certain that his aunt and uncle would finally be proud of him for once. He thought he even might get a hug from his aunt, something she seemed to give quite often to his cousin but never to him. _Maybe even uncle Vernon will let me sit at the table for dinner_ , he recalled hoping at the time, though knowing something like that would never happen.

Uncle Vernon was in a foul mood upon arriving home that day, a fact Harry missed altogether being excited about his test score. Unknown to the small child was the fact that earlier that day the school had called to speak with Vernon concerning the poor performance of his son Dudley. The boy had been involved in several altercations with other students and had refused to do the school work assigned as homework. Due to this there was a very good possibility that Dudley would be held back a year. The school administrator had even suggested that the boy might need special classes for the learning impaired.

The rather large form of his uncle was seated in his usual chair in the family sitting room, reading the evening paper when Harry had arrived at 4 Privet Drive that day. If the young boy had thought for a moment he would have realized something was off as his uncle was never home before the boys came home from school. The elder Dursley had been so angered by the call from the school that he had left work early, fearful he might snap at someone there and get in trouble. "Uncle Vernon," Harry said upon reaching the seated man. "The teacher from school said I should give you this. That you'd want to see it."

"She did, did she?" Vernon snapped back, having lowered his newspaper to shoot the boy a menacing glare due to being interrupted. "I've about had my fill of teachers for one day, boy!" the large man growled as he snatched the paper from Harry's small hand. As the man looked at the test, with its smiley face and high score, his face slowly turned an angry red with shades of splotchy purple. "This is all you're doing then is it? Some of your _freakiness_?"

Harry, still not certain just what exactly the adults meant when they said _freakiness_ none the less shook his head, having learned denial was the best course of action. "No, Sir. I worked really hard. The teacher said I shou-" The meaty backhand across his face sent him flying as well as ended whatever he was about to tell his uncle. The young child of six landed stunned and dazed upon the floor only just having missed hitting his head against the end table. A small trickle of blood ran from his split lip into his mouth leaving a distinctive iron taste we was becoming all too familiar with these days.

"You used your freakiness to make our Dudley look bad, didn't you Freak!" Vernon accused as he pulled his bulk from the chair, hauling himself to his feet. "Thought it would be great fun to make our boy look stupid while you come out looking like a bloody genius, did you! You've probably got that teacher of yours charmed and eating out your hand as well," Vernon said as he unclasped his belt, pulled it off only to fold it back upon itself to be held in one hand. "I'll beat the bloody freakiness right out of you if that's what it takes!"

Harry's young mind was a whirl of pain and confusion. _But I did good! I got the highest score in the class! You're supposed to be proud of me!_ These thoughts did little to stop the heavy leather strap as it made contact with his bare bottom repeatedly even as he tried in vain to get free of his uncles grasp to avoid the blows.

Later, once the tears had stopped and he was locked within his cupboard, once again without dinner, he came to the conclusion that doing well in school wasn't bad, but letting his relatives know about it was. The Dursleys never again saw anything from the boy's school. Anything requiring a signature he merely signed for them. As he grew older the passive aggressive side of him saw to it that he did the best he could in school. If the Dursleys disliked him being smart and excelling academically then that was exactly what he was going to do.

Harry sighed as he realized that he was getting off topic and forced his mind once more to return to the problem at hand. With a Herculean effort he wrest his thoughts back from those darker memories of his past. He knew that if he dwelled on them too long he would only grow more depressed with his life than he already was. _Where was I? Oh yes, astronomy_.

_We walked Hermione home_ , he recalled feeling his cheeks warm slightly at the memory of her fierce hug when they parted. _Then we made our way to the Slytherin common room and said our goodnights._ The young man felt his cheek blaze into a full on blush upon recalling the hugs from Tracey and Daphne. _Why did Daphne kiss me?_ he pondered even as one hand came up and touched his cheek where the blonde witch's lips had brushed up against his skin. _I've never been kissed before. Why would she do that?_ Harry thought that it might possibly be how friends said goodbye only to realize that the other two witches hadn't kissed him on the cheek.

The dark haired wizard pondered the blonde witch's actions for several moments before recalling that she had thanked him for being there for her. _Is that how friends say thank you to each other?_ _I don't really remember doing anything._

He recalled two older students he had seen in an out of the way corner once. _I wonder what one of them had to do to be thanked in such a manner as that?_ While Daphne's lips had only briefly touched his cheek, the two students he witnessed were locked lips to lips and had stayed that way long enough for the boy to grow concerned that they might pass out from lack of oxygen. When they had finally parted both had been breathing exceedingly hard and were red in the face. Seeing that they would apparently be alright, he had hurried away before being seen. _I doubt I would ever do something big enough to deserve a_ 'Thank You' _of that nature_ , he reasoned.

After saying goodbye to the girls, Harry recalled having gone to his own bed in the boy's dormitory only to find, thankfully, that it was clean once again. After a fairly good night's sleep he had gone through his morning routine of a shower and dressing before heading to the great hall for breakfast. Even though he had only slept for three hours he still felt refreshed enough to face another day. It was just as he was finishing up his apple that he was approached by a much older boy.

"Potter?" the boy asked once he had drawn near. Harry simply nodded once as his mouth was full of food at the time and he didn't want to be impolite. The boy was tall, rather well built with short dark hair, large prominent front teeth and shifty grey eyes. "Names Flint. Marcus Flint. Professor Snape says I'm to see to you this morning. Come with me," Flint said before turning away and striding off without looking back to see if the first year Slytherin was following him or not.

Harry quickly took a last bite of his meal as he stood and hastened after the older boy, pausing only long enough to toss the partially eaten apple into a bin as they left the great hall of Hogwarts before heading outside. _I wonder what Professor Snape has intended for my detention?_ he mused silently to himself as he hurried to keep up with the older boy's fast gait.

"Here, this is for you," Marcus said as he passed a folded piece of parchment to the younger boy. "That is a writ from Professor Snape giving you permission to fly whenever you're not in classes. I suggest you get as much practice in as you can, Potter. Quidditch matches can be pretty brutal if you're not careful."

"…I'm sorry. I'm afraid I don't understand," Harry stammered as they hurried along. "What does Quidditch matches have to do with me?" he enquired of the older boy. _Perhaps Professor Snape wants me to help clean the Slytherin team's gear as my detention_. It only made sense to the younger boy that he would have to test out the brooms once they were cleaned and serviced which would be why, as a first year, he would need a Professor's permission.

Marcus just smirked, his grey eyes shifting for a sidelong glance at the small boy hurrying to keep up with him. "You'll find out soon enough, Potter," was the fifth year's reply as he quickened his pace so that Harry had to nearly jog to keep from trailing behind.

They quickly made their way out the castle and through one of the numerous courtyards which let out upon a sloping hill. Far below them Harry could see a rather oval area fenced off all around its outer perimeter. Evenly spaced about the outer edge of the oval area were roughly a dozen and a half wooden towers stretching into the air a good ways above the enclosure. Harry quickly surmised it was some sort of playing field. It didn't take long for him to realize that this was _The Pitch_ which Blaise spoke of in such reverent tones.

Marcus led Harry through a wide open tunnel which let out upon the inner field where there were several other Slytherin members waiting for them. Harry noted that though they were dressed in the House colors of green, their robes were different being far thicker than the average robes worn every day at school. Each member also wore large gloves that seemed to have heavy padding on the backsides as well as what looked to be protective guards strapped to their shins.

"'Bout bloody time, Flint," a tall dark haired boy spoke up upon spotting the two new arrivals making their way over. "It's not bad enough you have to call us out here this early in the morning for an unscheduled practice, but then you can't even show up on time yourself!" the boy said with a sneer of poorly disguised contempt at his team mate. "Can't help but wondering what you did for 'ole Snape to get him to appoint you as team captain. A little extracurricular activity I'll wager," he offered up with a suggestive leer that brought chuckles from the others present.

"Shut yer trap Pucey," Marcus barked heatedly, "or we can talk about how you managed to be found naked in the Prefect bathroom last year with three older boys!" The boy Harry now knew as Pucey turned a livid shade of red but held his tongue. He had a few drinks of fire whiskey with the seventh year Prefect and two of his friends that evening. To this day he couldn't recall any details of the events that had occurred within the large spacious bathtub. For the remainder of the year, till graduation, the three older boys had all been very affectionate towards him though.

"Higgs, I'm moving you to Beater for the time being," Marcus informed another boy with light brown hair. Terence Higgs merely shrugged, accepting the shift in position from Seeker with little complaint. "Bole, you'll remain as the other Beater. Derrick, you're with me and Pucey as the third Chaser," Flint continued with the lineup changes.

"Oi! Why do I have to be a bleedin Chaser?" protested Peregrine Derrick in an affronted tone of voice. While he enjoyed the game he preferred to play as a beater rather than constantly rush about trying to score while dodging bludgers, which was what a Chaser did. If an opposing player occasionally got hit with the wooden beater bat while he was attempting to deflect a bludger, well, accidents did happen he figured.

"Because you're absolutely pants at being a beater," Flint was quick to respond with eliciting a round of snickers from the other teammates. Seeing the other boy about to start in on him, Flint quickly continued with, "Look, Professor Snape assigned us a new Seeker so adjustments have to be made. On account of needing to get the Seeker here trained, I don't have time to be arguing with the lot of you. If you're not happy with your new position there's the tunnel. Don't let the Bludger hit you in the arse on the way out!" Flint waited a minute to see if anyone had anything else to say or would leave before he continued, "Alright in the air with the lot of you. Warm up by throwing the Quaffle about while I get our Seeker ready."

Upon learning that Harry didn't have his own broom, Flint walked him over to a locker near the mouth of the tunnel where equipment was stored when not in use. "You can get started on one of these," he told the first year Slytherin. "They're all in sorry shape but then again that's probably why they're in the broom cupboard for anyone to use isn't it?" he asked with a smirk.

Harry looked from the older boy to the dozen or so brooms in the cupboard leaning against the walls. Still not certain what he was meant to do, he looked back towards Marcus. "If you can tell me how to clean them I'll get started right away. I'm assuming there are cleaning supplied as well?"

Flint stared at the smaller boy in confusion for a long moment, hardly believing what he had just heard. "Are you daft, Potter? You're not here to clean the brooms. Professor Snape said you're to be the new Slytherin Seeker!"

"I am?" Harry stammered in surprise, not knowing what a Seeker was but suspecting it had something to do with Quidditch and the players on the team. _I really should read Blaise's book_ , he chastised himself for not having already done so. "But I've only been on a broom once," he objected. "I don't even know anything about the game."

"You'll learn," Marcus replied with a dismissive shrug before reaching in to grab a broom only to turn and shove it into Harry's hands. "If some of those thick witted Gryffs can learn it then it should be fair easy for a Snake to do so."

Next, the Slytherin team Captain led the new Seeker back over to where the team had been waiting and to a chest that was already open. There was an empty depression in the center of the chest where Harry guessed the ball currently being tossed about in the air above them had once resided. To either side of this were balls that remained strapped in place but still managed to jerk about as if they were seeking their freedom and were more than a little put out at not obtaining it. Opening a small compartment on the trunk lid Marcus withdrew a small golden ball and held it up for Harry to see.

"This is what it is all about, Potter. The only thing I need you to do is catch this ball. It's called The Golden Snitch," Flint told the boy. "It's worth one hundred and fifty points if you can catch it before the other team's Seeker. Do that and the game is over."

"Seems easy enough," Harry replied as he watched a pair of translucent silver wings emerge from the golden ball.

Flint snorted as he released the Snitch, which fluttered about for a moment as if not realizing yet that it was free before speeding away in a golden blur of movement. "You say that now, but they're hard to spot, exceedingly fast, and tricky little bastards too!"

"What are those?" Harry asked as the entire chest shook as both of the remaining objects seemed to dislike being the only things still remaining stationary.

"You needn't worry about them, Potter," Flint said with a wicked chuckle as if he was hiding something. "All you need to focus on is catching that Snitch. For today I simply want you to fly about so that you can get used to the layout of The Pitch. You're allowed to fly outside the towers and as high as you'd care to go," the older boys said. "I don't expect you to catch the Snitch today as this is only your second time on a broom. Off with you now and try to stay out of the way of the rest of us."

Harry wasted no time in climbing aboard the broom that was given to him and taking off in a burst of speed that even Flint had to give grudging respect to. As soon as Harry had climbed to a height just above the top of the surrounding wooden towers, he paused and took a proper look at the broom he was seated on. The shaft of the broom appeared to be made of a single solid piece of oak. The tip of the shaft had ' _Oakshaft 79_ ' etched into it followed by a tiny ' _EG_ ' which Harry took to be the maker of the broom.

The next hour was spent maneuvering the broom through dives, climbs, twists and turns. Harry quickly discovered that while the broom could climb adequately, it was terrible at sharp turns of any sort. The diving power was respectable, however you had to allow considerable room for pulling out of a dive or risk flying into the ground. Wide sweeping turns and straightaway acceleration seemed to be its strong points. The young wizard also discovered that being on a broom was the most thrill thing he had ever done in his life. Soaring several hundred feet off the ground it was just him, the broom and the wind and he loved it!

The newest Seeker decided to take a break and just slowly fly about The Pitch, watching his new teammates below. Three of the boys were throwing a ball back and forth as they closed in on a fourth boy who was stationary before a set of three hoops. The remaining two seemed to have small bats in their hand and were attempting to hit the chasers with the balls which had still been in the trunk. Flint threw the ball through a hoop and then yelled at the boy who should have blocked it. Harry found out that the boy's name was Bletchley only because he heard Flint call him that.

There was the barest of flickers of gold out the corner of Harry's eye and when he turned to look in that direction he saw it. He saw the Snitch! Turning his broom he raced after the golden globe as best he could on the broom he had. The Snitch took a sudden dive and Harry followed it, slowly gaining on the illusive object. When it took a sharp turn to the right, rather than try to turn, as he knew his broom couldn't match that agility he instead did a small inverted loop, coming out of it headed in the same direction as the fleeing Snitch having lost hardly any distance. Harry urged the broom to greater speed to make up the difference.

Down beneath him the rest of his new teammates stopped as they suddenly realized that Harry had actually found the Snitch and was giving chase. It had been over a century since a first year student had made a house team as a Seeker. The simple fact was that, at that young of an age none of them had the skill upon a broom to be able to play seriously. Those hovering on their brooms and watching were amazed as well as a bit envious of the apparent raw talent of the first year quickly closing the gap upon the golden prize.

Peregrine Derrick flew over to Lucian Bole and yanked the beater bat from the startled boy's hand. "I'll show him just whose pants at being a Beater," the boy snarled as he streaked over to an incoming bludger and hit it as hard as he could.

Harry corkscrewed first right and then left as the Snitch darted in that direction. Tears streamed from his eyes from the wind as well as the sheer joy he was experiencing. Never before had he felt so free or so alive. A sudden dive had him plummeting at breakneck speed towards the ground. As the green of the grass rushed towards him his cold fingers closed around the golden object, bringing a huge triumphant grin to his face. A quick corkscrew and he used the centrifugal force to help pull him out of the dive before hitting the ground. Hearing his name called he had started to turn his head and the next thing he knew was that he was waking up in the hospital bed.

"I see you're awake finally, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey's professional sounding voice cut into his thoughts as the school's medical witch entered the screened off area around his bed.

"What happened to me?" Harry enquired, opening his eyes only to squint against the brightness as well as the blurry vision. "I've seemed to have misplaced my glasses as well," he added as an afterthought.

"You did not misplace them," the head Nurse informed him of as she began waving her wand over his head, taking diagnostic readings of his health. "You can't take a bludger to the head without expecting there to be some casualties. Nasty sport Quidditch can be," she tsked disapprovingly. "Far too small to be playing if you ask me," she said under her breath.

"Is that what happened to me, Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked in disbelief and confusion. "What is a bludger?" Harry enquired, not understanding just what had hit him.

"It seems that one of your teammates accidently hit one at you while you weren't looking," the school's Nurse told him, her tone clearly indicating that she had reservations about believing it was an accident. "As for what it is, perhaps it would best be described as a mean cantankerous ball with an ornery disposition that tries to hit anyone it gets near. How are you feeling?" Poppy queried, wishing to change the subject from the game that brought her far more patients than she wanted each year.

"Alright, I guess," Harry answered, not wanting to cause the Head Nurse any more trouble than he already had.

"Mmm-hmm," Poppy replied, realizing that the boy was not telling her everything. After years of dealing with the students of Hogwarts she was very apt at telling when a patient was feigning sickness as well as pretending to be healthier than they really were. "I want you to sit up for me."

Harry did as instructed, trying to ignore the sharp pains that were shooting through his head at the sudden movement. Unable to stop himself, his hand flew to his head as if he could in some manner sooth the pains he was experiencing. "Perhaps a bit less than alright, I guess," he finally confessed with a sheepish look.

"I thought that might be the case," the medical witch replied with a small knowing frown. "Head hurts, I take it?" Harry nodded in response and instantly regretted it. "Is your vision blurred as well?"

The young wizard slowly cracked open his eyes, wincing at the light once again, before he looked about. "No more than normally, Ma`am," he replied. "It seems terribly bright in here though, and that does hurt my eyes some."

"Here drink this," Poppy said as she handed him a potion she had been holding. Harry quickly did as told finding the clear liquid to be cold, as if it had just been taken from the ice box, though the small bottle itself was neither cold nor warm in his grasp. As the coldness seemed to spread through his body the pain in his head slowly subsided before it vanished altogether. "That should help with the pain."

"Yes, loads," Harry assured her with a grateful smile.

Madam Pomfrey simply nodded, satisfied that no permanent harm had been done. "I'll check you once again when you return tonight for your treatment. In the meantime, if your vision gets worse, you become dizzy or the headache returns come and see me right away."

"What will I have to do for the treatment?" Harry asked with a tremor of trepidation in his voice. Knowing that whatever the treatment was it was going to cause him pain did nothing to quall his fears. Still, if it meant his magic would not harm anyone then he was determined to see it through.

"For the first month I'll need for you to spend the night here every Thursday, Saturday and Monday. I want to assess how the treatment affects you just to be on the safe side. If everything goes well, which I expect it to, you'll be able to spend the other nights in your House as you normally would," Madam Pomfrey told him only to see him waiting for what exactly the treatments consisted of.

"Professor Dumbledore said there might be some pain involved?" Harry asked, pressing the medical witch for more details. Though he had every faith in her abilities, it was his body that would be in pain he reasoned.

Poppy thought for a moment before deciding to be honest with the young boy. From what she had seen of his injuries she could well imagine that his life had not been an easy one. She doubted that anyone had ever been kind to him in any measure of the word and she didn't even want to try and fathom the emotional or psychological abuse Harry must have suffered. _I just can't lie to him or sugar coat it_ , she finally decided.

"Mr. Potter, I'm going to be honest with you," Poppy said with a small sigh, "growing bones is nasty business. You are currently far smaller than you should be for a boy of your age. I'm going to give you potions which will force your bones to grow larger as well as longer than their current state of development. As the surrounding muscles and tendons are not designed for the larger bones this will cause them to stretch, which will in turn hurt as well as place added pressure upon your joints causing additional pain. Eventually your muscles and tendons will adjust, alleviating the pressure and pain." Seeing Harry about to ask a question, the medical witch quickly held up a hand to forestall him. "As much as I would love to be able to give you the pain killing potion I just did, I'm afraid I can not." Harry's look of confusion prompted her to continue with her explanation.

"This is a very delicate case with a high degree of uncertainty to it. Too much diluted Skele-Gro and the bones could grow faster than your body's ability to adjust. Too little given and it will not be enough to effect the changes we're attempting to make. I need to know if there is a problem and if you're sedated with pain killers or sleep aids I won't know there is a problem until it is too late," she explained to him. There was the real possibility that the Skele-Gro could grow his bones faster than the tendons and muscles could stretch which would cause them the rip and tear instead. That would cause far more damage than they were currently attempting to repair. "Do you have any questions?"

"An…and this will help me control my magic," Harry enquired hesitantly. He wasn't afraid of the pain. He thought it unlikely to hurt more than some of the beatings he had received from his uncle and cousin. _I have to gain control of my magic or everyone is in danger_ , he thought to himself as the image of the three witches from last night flashed through his young mind. _I could never forgive myself if I were to hurt one of them, even accidently_.

Poppy nodded at his question, well aware of the boys concerns, having spoken with the Headmaster. "Physical health is directly related to your mental as well as magical wellbeing. Should one of them fall out of sync it will adversely affect the other two. Think of a chair with three legs to it," she offered in an attempt to explain it in a manner in which he could comprehend. "Remove any one of the legs from that chair and it would be unable to stand on its own."

Harry nodded slowly at her words. "Thank you. I understand," he told her sincerely. "What time should I be here tonight?"

"I believe eight o`clock would be a good time. That way we can get you comfortable before the potions start to work," she told him, to which he simply nodded in acceptance. "Any other questions I can answer for you, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes Ma`am, actually there is," he replied, running one hand through his unruly strands, "do you happen to know where I can find a pair of glasses?"

"The pair you had were broken pretty badly," she said, her brow darkening as she once again recalled what exactly had brought him to be under her care once again. "While you were asleep, Professor Sinistra stopped in and offered to see about repairing them." Harry's eyes widened at her unexpected news. "I took a look at your eyes while you were asleep and gave her what your prescription should be. I was rather surprised to find that you were far sighted. It's highly uncommon for a child of your age to be that way." The medical Nurse couldn't help but wonder if the head injury which she had detected the other day was the reason for Harry's far sightedness. "The lenses you had were woefully incorrect, more along the line of something I would expect a toddler to have for their first pair of glasses."

"Yes, Ma`am," Harry responded with as he dropped his eyes to the hands in his lap so that she would not see his embarrassment. "I've had them since I was a small child," he mumbled just barely loud enough for her to hear. His relatives, never wanting to spend money on their freak of a nephew had never bothered to update his glass and so they were the same ones he had worn since he was five years old.

"Well, I am certain that Aurora will have them fixed as good a new for you," Poppy said with a warm smile, feeling slightly guilty for making the boy feel bad. The young Astronomy Professor was one of the medical witch's favorites from when the younger girl had been a student. Poppy had little doubt that Aurora would see to the glasses. Since Aurora had joined the staff at Hogwarts, the two of them had become fast friends despite their age difference. The older of the twain tended to calm the more enthusiastic one down while the younger in turn pushed the medical witch to relax and cut loose once in a while. It was an arrangement that complimented them both mutually.

"Yes, Ma`am. I'll see her about them right away," Harry replied, realizing that he wouldn't be able to read or do homework without the glasses. Surprisingly, he also felt rather naked without them on. It was as feeling as if he was forgetting something without really knowing what.

"Might I suggest before you do that you pay a visit to the Library?" Poppy offered with a small smile which blossomed into a full on grin upon seeing the boy's confused look. "Unless I miss my guess, there are three very anxious young witches there. They have been making almost nonstop visits from the third floor to check on a certain young dark-haired wizard."

"Me?" Harry asked incredulously as his eyebrows rose into his hairline. "To check on me? Really?" he repeated in disbelief. No one had ever come to check on him…ever!

"As you are currently my only patient I think it safe to assume so. I finally had to tell them that should they return again I would be keeping you over night and they would have to wait till tomorrow to see you," she added with a humorous chuckle. "Your clothes are there at the foot of the bed, you may get dressed and leave." Seeing the boy just sitting there in the hospital bed in shock from the news, she couldn't resist adding a little nudge. "A word of advice and a lesson that all young men need to learn, Mr. Potter," she offered in her ' _all business'_ tone of voice which served its purpose as the young wizard was now giving her his full attention, "Never, ever, under any circumstance, keep a young lady waiting. Most certainly not three of them at once," she finished with an arched brow and a slight tilt of her head before turning and walking out of the screened off area so he could dress.

_Why? Why would they bother to come and check on me?_ he pondered as he quickly shed the hospital pajamas and dressed in his school uniform once again. Stepping from the screened off area he didn't see Madam Pomfrey about so he made his way from the hospital towards the Grande Stairway to head to the library.

_I have to make certain that I thank them for coming to check on me_ , he told himself as he walked along the hospital wing corridor. _I'm still not certain what to do with friends, but I want to make certain that I don't mess this up. These are the first friends I've ever had and I don't want to lose them._ Walking with his head down, lost in thought, he didn't notice the three witches that entered the corridor till he was nearly knocked over by a bushy haired torpedo that plowed into him at a speed no mere two legged being should have been able to achieve on her own without the use of magic.

**-oOo-**

"I've had just about enough out of the both of you!" Tracey Davis announced as she forcibly closed her text book with a resounding thud that seemed to echo through the stillness of the library. Daphne and Hermione, the subjects of her comment, both looked up towards the auburn haired witch in surprise before glancing towards each other with matching looks of puzzlement.

"Don't go acting like you don't know what I'm talking about either," Tracey continued with upon seeing their expressions. "You've both been sitting here sighing every minute or so like some tea kettle that's come to boil."

"I have not!" declared the blonde Slytherin witch indignantly at her friend's accusation. Daphne wasn't certain she had been sighing _that_ often, after all. She was willing to admit to herself that there had been a worried sigh or two.

"I don't know what you're on about, Tracey," Hermione added in a slightly huffy tone as she shuffled the scrolls on the table before her from one pile to another, accomplishing very little in the process. "We've both been diligently working on our assignments and going over notes from last night."

Blaise Zabini's self-preservation instincts kicked in, causing him to draw back slightly as all three witches suddenly turned to look at him for his opinion on the matter. "It wasn't me sighing," he declared holding his hands up before as if to fend off an attack or offer surrender should it be required. All three girls glared at him for not taking their side of the argument. "Well….all _three_ of you were sighing…a little more than usual," he finally said, prepared to bolt and live to see another day should the need arise.

"Well it's not our fault," Daphne snapped, not happy about being ratted out by her own housemates. Tossing her quill down upon the table she leaned back in her chair before crossing her arms over her chest in frustration.

"If we could just get in to see him then we wouldn't worry as much," Hermione offered, her tone expressing her desire to ensure her friend was, indeed, alright. The young Gryffindor witch had read enough medical journals to know just how dangerous head injuries could be. Her parents, being dentists, kept up on all the latest medical periodicals, so there was plenty to read about the house. The knowledge she gained from her reading was enough to allow her imagination to envision the worst possible injuries there were.

"I can't believe that old bitty threatened to keep him over night," Tracey quipped, shocking the other two girls for a moment before all four students present started giggling at the girl's words. "Well she did!" Tracey insisted defensively, only causing the others to laugh all the more.

"I still can't believe that Potter's going to be the starting Seeker for our House team," Blaise said, an air of admiration in his tone. "He has to be the youngest Seeker in the last few decades at least!"

"The last century actually," Hermione said, slipping into her _know-it-all_ voice that many at her primary school had found so annoying. "I looked it up this morning when we heard the news. He's the youngest player in nearly two centuries. Mostly due to the fact that his birthday is so close to the start of the school year." Being famous, as Harry was, meant that his birthday was common knowledge, known by almost all young witches and some young wizards. It was perhaps not surprising that the young witches seemed to take a greater interest in The-Boy-Who-Lived than young wizards did.

"A fact he may be regretting right about now," Tracey replied. "I'm not a Quidditch groupie like some," she paused to shoot a pointed look towards the only male at the table before continuing, "but I would imagine that a bludger to the head is not the best way to start your career, I should think."

"Even though he got knocked senseless, he didn't let go of the Snitch," Blaise told them, disbelief joining the note of admiration in the boy's voice. "I heard Higgs and Bole talking afterwards. They both were fairly certain that Pucey hit the bludger towards Potter on purpose due to being put out at losing his Beater position." This previously unknown news brought angry scowls from all three witches. "Anyways," Blaise continued, either missing or ignoring their dark looks as they weren't directed at him, "apparently Flint, the team captain, had to pry the Snitch from Potter's hand so he could put it back in the trunk with the other Quidditch equipment."

"That's barbaric!" Hermione finally managed to exclaim at the revelation that Harry had been hurt on purpose.

Tracey was quick to correct the Gryffindor witch, "No, that's Quidditch."

"Best sport every!" Blaise chimed in with which set off a discussion of the pros and cons of the game itself and just how inherently dangerous it was to play. Zabini, ever the die-hard fan, argued that it was far safer now than it was in the past, while Hermione maintained that just because it was _safer_ did not mean it was actually _safe_.

Daphne sat and listened to the friendly banter as Tracey and Blaise continued to trade quips on the merits of Quidditch while Hermione offered suggestion for better protective gear for the players. _I hope Harry's alright_ , she worried. Since hearing in the great hall that The-Boy-Who-Lived had been injured while at Quidditch practice, she had found it increasingly hard to focus on her school work. It hadn't helped matters any when Madam Pomfrey had shooed them away from the hospital wing of the school after their sixth attempt to see the injured wizard. There was something about the young dark haired boy that she couldn't place her finger on or understand fully, yet she found herself wanting more and more to be close friends with him.

The previous night after hugging him goodbye and giving him a chase kiss on the cheek she had found it difficult to fall asleep. _He's the first boy that I can call a friend_ , she had realized as she lay in bed thinking about the events on the Astronomy tower as well as in the commons room, her cheeks flushed in the darkness of the girl's dormitory where thankfully no one could see them. It wasn't that she didn't know other boys her age. In fact she knew or had met just about every boy her age as well as those within a few years of her, both older as well as younger. The trouble was that she also had met the families behind those boys that were hoping to gain from a marriage of their child to the eldest Greengrass daughter. _Harry's is different_. Daphne wasn't sure how she knew it, but she felt certain of the fact.

_Harry couldn't have known who I was on the Hogwarts Express and yet he helped me get away from Malfoy and his cronies_. Their meeting that day and the time they spent sitting together and just talking was very special to her. She hadn't even told Tracey about it. _It's a secret between Harry and me_ , she told herself. The memory never failed to warm her heart. _Hard to believe I have Draco to thank for it._ The mere thought of the blonde haired Slytherin was enough to cause a foul taste in her mouth.

_Last night on the tower Harry once again came to my rescue and let me hold his hand and cling to his arm while I was scared. He didn't make fun of me at all, but rather tried to console me instead._ The young Slytherin witch was fairly certain that Draco would have wasted little time in finding humor in her discomfort. _Then…he goes and promises to always be there for me!_ Daphne had no doubt that Harry had meant every word. _He even indulged me when I asked for a second hug._

As a small girl she had read all the children's books about The-Boy-Who Lived. What witch or wizard hadn't? While she had enjoyed the stories themselves, she had never really bought into the myth. If the outlandish stories were to be believed, there was just no conceivable way that a child could do all the amazing and life threatening things the books depicted. _The real Harry is so much better than the one in those books! I'm so glad that we're friends now._ It was with that happy thought that she had finally managed to fall asleep. It shouldn't have been any wonder that her dreams that night were filled with a certain green-eyes wizard who played games with her beneath a canopy of stars.

_Please be alright Harry. I truly want to know what it is like to have a friend that is a boy who is not being used by their family to gain something._ She had always heard that boys were different than girls, but had never had the opportunity to find out, until now. The memory of Harry's hand in hers in the Slytherin common room suddenly came to mind, bringing a slight blush to her cheeks. Her musings were rudely interrupted by her name being called somewhat impatiently.

"Daphne! Daphne! Earth to Daphne!" Tracey called as loudly as she dared within the nearly sacred walls of Madam Pince's library. Any louder was sure to bring down the Librarian's wrath and get them removed for the day.

Daphne blinked one owlishly, realizing she had been zoning out while thinking about her new friendship with Harry. "What?"

"And just where were your thoughts at?" Tracey prompted with a knowing grin upon seeing her friend's flushed cheeks. Daphne merely stuck her tongue out in way of reply, drawing a chuckle from the other three present. "It's nearly lunch time," Tracey informed her friend, taking the girl's actions as confirmation that the blonde witch had been thinking about the wizard they were all worried about. "I thought we might try one last time to get into the hospital wing to see Harry."

"Oi! Give it a rest already," Blaise said with a slight trace of exasperation in his voice as he started to put his books away. "I'm sure he'll come find the lot of you once he's released. If you couldn't get in to see him before what makes you think you'll be able to now?" he asked, not understanding the unreasonable need of the three witches with him to see the other boy with their own eyes. _You would think that the Head Nurse's word that Potter would be fine would be sufficient for anyone._ "Maybe Potter asked not to have any visitors," he said, giving voice to the thought which had just appeared in his head. "He doesn't strike me as the type to like the attention."

All three witches shared the same frightening look with each other, each wondering if perhaps Zabini could possibly be correct. They each could recall Harry saying that he didn't do well with attention when they were up on the Astronomy tower. They couldn't help but wonder if their presence might actually do more harm than good.

"Maybe we should just go to lunch," Tracey offered tentatively. "We can always check on him afterwards," she added hopefully.

"He's probably resting anyways," Hermione spoke up, adding to the conversation. "It's fairly common with head injuries that they sleep for a period of time. I'm sure that would be hard for him to do if we all just suddenly show up."

"I doubt Madam Pomfrey would allow us in regardless," Daphne offered in a resigned tone of voice. "She's very adamant about putting a patient's care first and foremost."

"Great, then it's settled," Zabini chimed in with. "We'll go to lunch and then you three can go and see if you can even get into the hospital wing." The four of them quickly gathered their things and let the library. Once they reached the bottom of the Grande Stairway, Blaise turned towards the corridor that led to the Great Hall only to stop after a few feet upon realizing that he was walking alone. Turning about he could do little more than chuckle and shake his head in disbelief as he watched the three witches set off towards the Hospital wing of Hogwarts.

**-oOo-**

I'm alright, Hermione. Really," Harry assured the petite Gryffindor witch as he returned her hug and patted her back awkwardly.

"I was so worried," Hermione sniffled next to Harry's ear in a tearful voice as she squeezed him just a little tighter. "I've read about head injuries and how nasty they can be."

"Madam Pomfrey assured me that everything was alright," Harry said loud enough so that the others could hear as well, as he dropped his arms and the bushy haired witch stepped back to stand next to the other two.

Tracey cracked a grin as she quickly leapt forward and threw her arms around Harry's neck in a hug. "Now you know you can't hug one of us without hugging us all, Potter," she said, scolding him in a feigned anger at his apparent favoritism. "Don't you ever scare us like that again, Harry," she added in a whisper only he could hear, her arms drawing him closer for a longer moment.

Harry hugged the auburn-haired witch back. "Sorry Tracey. I'll try not to do it again," he replied to her whispered words before letting her go.

"Harry!" Hermione suddenly gasped as Tracey stepped away from the wizard, "What happened to your glasses?" she asked only having just noticed they were missing. "You look different without them," she commented. "Not in a bad way mind you, just…well…different," Hermione hastily clarified.

"I don't know," Daphne said in a slightly speculative tone as she stepped forward and slipped her arms around Harry's neck for her turn at a hug, "I think he looks rather fetching without them. You can see his eyes much better," she added as she gazed into said green orbs.

"True as that maybe," Harry replied tilting his head slightly to one side as if to get a better look at her, "without them you are little more than a pretty blonde blur." There was a slight squeal, which he was fairly certain came from Daphne, and then he found himself in a bone crushing hug.

"Thank you Harry," Daphne voiced as she squeezed the befuddled boy in her arms as hard as she could, "you always say the sweetest things!" she said before drawing back before the confused wizard could even return the hug. The fact that Harry thought she was pretty had the girl grinning from ear to ear.

"So you're really alright, Harry?" Hermione asked, concern and worry evident in her every word. Still not certain what he had done to earn the bone crushing hug from his blonde housemate, Harry could do little more than nod to the other girl's question.

"We tried to come and see you several times," a slightly blushing Daphne's said, "but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let us in."

"You should have heard these two, sighing dejectedly almost constantly. I swear it sounded like there was a leaky steam pipe in the library," Tracey quipped before either of the other girls could stop her.

"TRACEY!" both Hermione and Daphne squawked at the same time as their faces turned a lovely shade of red.

"That reminds me," Harry spoke up, a decidedly nervous tremor to his voice, "There's something I need to tell you." Three quizzical looks turned to regard the dark-haired wizard at once. Thankfully, without his glasses everything was a bit blurred and so Harry didn't notice their scrutiny or he might not have been able to continue. "I hope I get this right," he mumbled barely loud enough for them to hear him, "please understand if I mess it up," he quickly added apologetically even though he hadn't as yet done anything.

"Harry?" Hermione enquired, uncertain what exactly to make of her friends words and actions. She could clearly tell that the boy was becoming more and more nervous with each word that he spoke. _Is the injury more serious than he first told us?_ Hermione felt her chest tighten in fear for the Slytherin boy before her.

"It's alright Harry, you can tell us," Daphne spoke up in a quiet voice trying to lend her support and reassurance. _Whatever it is it clearly has him worried_ , she realized even as she tried to determine what it could possibly be.

"Don't keep us waiting, Potter," Tracey said with a small smile in an attempt at humor to break the building tension. "It can't be that bad…can it?" she asked with a slightly arched brow, her worried tone making the joke fall flat.

"I…I wanted to thank you," Harry started with, even as he unconsciously began to wring his hands nervously. "I've just never had someone worry enough about me to come and check up on me," he told them, causing all three of their hearts to ache in their chests. "I just wanted to make sure I said Thank You like a real friend would." The nervous boy took a deep breath and exhaled while absently running a hand through his dark tresses. Gathering his courage he stepped forward and lightly kissed each witch on the cheek starting with Daphne and ending with Hermione.

All three witch wore the same gobsmacked expressions at the boy's actions. Tracey Davis was the first to recover. "What was that for, Harry?" she asked still slightly befuddled at being kissed so unexpectedly. She didn't have to look at the other two witches to know that they, like herself, were sporting tremendously red faces.

"I was just saying thank you," Harry stammered, suddenly growing uncertain upon hearing Tracey's questioning tone. _If I could only see their expressions_ , he thought as he silently cursed not having his glasses. "Did I not do it right?" Harry questioned as his gaze went from one blurry witch to the other. "I…I tried to do it just like Daphne did last night when she thanked me," the flustered boy stammered, believing that he had somehow manage to get it wrong. "I'm sorry. I probably really buggered it, didn't I? I must be pants at this whole friends thing if I can't even say thanks correctly!"

"No, Harry," Tracey stopped him before he could get himself worked up true and proper like. "You did it smashingly well," she told him, stepping forward and taking his arm in hand while stepping to his side and turning to face the other two. The auburn-haired witch hoped her actions would be enough to reassure the young wizard that he hadn't done anything wrong. "What do you ladies think," Tracey asked the other two witches.

"Y..ye…yes," Hermione tried to say, her voice breaking slightly causing her to have to clear it once before she could continue. "Yes, splendidly. Top notch for sure," the blushed bushy haired witch confirmed while staring at the floor to hide her flaming cheeks and the smile she was sporting despite being embarrassed.

"Daphne?" Tracey prompted with a teasing smile. "Don't you think Harry did a wonderful job for his first time?"

Daphne, much like Hermione, was taking a keen interest in the toes of her shoes. The fact that it felt like her ears were on fire might have had something to do with her choice of that particular view. "Best thank you I've ever had," she thought only to gasp as she realized she had actually said it aloud, which accounted for Tracey's humorous snort following the now scarlet face witches accidental admission.

"There Harry, we all agree," the young witch said, "You did remarkably well for your first time."

"I concur as well, Mr. Potter," said the amused voice of Aurora Sinistra from a few feet away causing Harry to spin about to face the smiling professor even as all four students instantly turn a livid shade of red. "I would however advise against thanking any of your male friends in the same manner," she added with a merry twinkle in her eyes at their discomfort. "They might not be so…accepting."

"I…I think I'll just limit it to these three, Professor," Harry stammered, having recognized the voice of their Astronomy teacher. "If that's alright?" The three girls arrayed behind him were quick to voice their assent.

"There, I believe we're all in agreement then. Any more than this and there is no telling what stories might be written about The-Boy-Who-Lived," she said with a soft chuckle to indicate that she wasn't completely serious. "If you ladies are done with Mr. Potter for now, I have need of him. Why don't you go to lunch and I'll send him along in a bit."

"Yes, Professor," all three witches replied with before turning and heading to the great hall after offering various forms of ' _I'll see you later_ ' to Harry.

"You have a very nice group of friends there, Mr. Potter," Aurora told him as they traversed a side corridor, " make sure you treat them well."

"Harry, please professor," the young wizard reminded her to call him by his first name. "Actually I'm very fortunate to have them. I've never had friends before," he explained in the same tone one might use to discuss the weather. "I'm not sure why exactly they want to be friends with me or even what it truly is to be a friend but they have offered to teach me. I'll do my best not to disappoint them, Professor," Harry promised as they walked along.

"Treat them as you just did and as you did last night and I don't believe you'll have to worry about disappointing them, Harry," she reassured him. _You may have to worry about which of the three you'll date, but at least that is still some time away_.

Harry simply nodded, accepting her words as truth, realizing that he had little to no experience in such matters. The dark skinned witch soon stopped before an open door and motioned for him to precede her into the office. "Was there something you needed me for, Professor?" Harry asked slightly puzzled to be called out by her. Glancing about he saw a great many items which all in some manner or another pertained to Astronomy which quickly led him to the conclusion that this must be the professor's office.

"I think rather something you need from me, Harry," the young witch said as she rounded the desk and sat in the chair behind it before opening a drawer only to pull out a familiar pair of glasses. "I believe these are yours," she said holding out the spectacles to the boy before her desk.

Harry gratefully accepted the glasses and quickly placed them on only to gasp as everything was far clearer, sharper and in greater detail than it had ever been before. "Are you certain these are mine, Professor?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Thanks to Madam Pomfrey I was able to adjust the lens to the strength you needed," Aurora explained. "I used the same frames and lenses as you appeared to be rather attached to them. I merely adjusted the lenses to better suit you," she concluded with as she watched the ecstatic youth looking all about the office as he tested out his new glasses.

"This will make reading loads easier," Harry exclaimed in an excited voice. "Perhaps now I won't get any more headaches either."

"Here, try it out," Aurora offered, holding out a newspaper to him to read. Harry's comment concerning headaches piped her curiosity. "Do you have headaches often Harry?"

"Just whenever I read for a while," Harry replied, accepting the paper and unfolding it to the front page. The lettering was crisp and clear as well as far easier to read than it ever had been before. Even the image, showing two Goblins looking into an open vault was clear as well. Harry quickly read the main story.

**Gringotts' Break-In Latest**

_"Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. "But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon."_

Harry's new and improved eye sight noticed the vault number. "Hagrid and I visited that vault that same day," he told the Professor in disbelief. "I think Hagrid removed the only item that was in there. He mentioned that it was ' _Hogwarts business_ ' and that he was fetching it for the Headmaster."

"Are you certain, Harry," Aurora asked as she got up from her desk and came around it to look at the article over the boy's shoulder. _What are the chances that the day Harry and Hagrid visit a vault that it gets broken into?_

"Yes, I'm certain of it, Professor," Harry replied looking up from the paper with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Good thing that Hagrid took me for my birthday or who knows what the thief might have gotten away with."

"What in deed," Aurora said softly, more to herself than to the boy with her. "Well, whatever it was, I'm certain the Headmaster is handling it," she said, reaching out and tousling his dark strands playfully. "Now I do believe that there are three very nice witches awaiting your presence in the Great Hall for lunch. Best not to keep them waiting," she advised as she turned the boy about and gave him a slight push towards the door to speed him on his way. "Off with you now," she said with mock sternness.

Harry, elated at being able to see so clearly couldn't stop grinning and walked to the door before turning around and hurrying back. "Thank you for the glasses," he said before quickly rising up on his toes and placing a quick kiss on the cheek of the youngest professor at Hogwarts.

Too stunned to say anything the Astronomy Professor watched as The-Boy-Who-Lived quickly left her office. "Cheeky little devil," she finally said softly, her fingers touching her blushing cheek where Harry had kissed her. "That one's going to have all the ladies swooning after him, I'll wager."

**-oOo-**

Harry quickly made his way to the great hall so that he could eat, suddenly finding himself hungry. _I must have worked up an appetite while flying_ , he reasoned to himself. _Perhaps today I might have an orange as well. That would be exceptionally well. Just like a holiday!_ Harry stepped through the side entrance to the great hall, offering a nod to Tracey and Daphne who were involved in a conversation with Sophie Roper, or at least he seemed to recall that was her name. No sooner had Harry sat down and reached for an apple when he heard the last thing he wanted to hear right then.

"How did you ever manage to make the House Quidditch team, Potter?" Draco Malfoy asked as he sauntered up with his two shadows. _Large and very big shadows_ , Harry quipped mentally to himself as he eyed Crabbe and Goyle before looking towards the blonde boy who has spoken.

"I don't actually know, Draco," Harry offered with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Professor Snape as it was by his direction I was told."

Draco smirked for a moment, "He must have felt sorry for the other teams as Slytherin has won the cup now for many years straight? None of the other teams come even close to ours. By having a talentless half-blood such as yourself playing he's probably hoping that the other teams will think they stand a chance at winning with Slytherin having such a handicap," Draco stated knowingly, certain that had to be the reason.

"Who else is new to the team?" Harry asked calmly, wondering if he was the only new player or not.

"I could have been on the team if I wanted to, Potter," Draco spat out in anger, believing that Harry was bragging about making the team well he had not. "I'm certain Snape will soon realize what a mistake he's made in letting you on a team!"

"Maybe he will," Harry agreed with a slight shrug of his narrow shoulders, suddenly realizing that their discussion was attracting many ears and eyes other than their own. "Till he does I guess I'll just have to do the best I can. The brooms in the cupboard may not be the best or the newest but I'll manage with them somehow," Harry said.

Draco scoffed at the dark haired boys words. "You don't even have your own broom? My father would get me the best broom there is, should I ask him to," the Malfoy heir boasted loudly wanting to make certain as many as possible heard him.

"Perhaps if you get on the team he shall," Harry replied, agreeing with the other boy.

"What do you mean _if_ , Potter?" Draco snarled in irritation at the perceived slight. "I'll have you know that…," the blonde boy suddenly raised one hand and pointed a trembling finger over Harry's shoulder as a look a utter terror appeared on his face, "BLUDGER!" Draco called out.

Harry tried to turn and jump off of the bench all at the same time while ducking to avoid being hit again. All he successfully managed to do was tangle his foot with the bench leg and tripping himself which resulted in Harry landing none to gently upon the stone floor. Loud boisterous laughter erupted through the majority of the great hall as the students who had been watching intently saw Harry trip and fall. None laughed louder or longer than Draco and his cronies who had a front row seat for the entire affair.

With most the school laughing at the expense of The-Boy-Who-Lived they failed to notice the two rather large owls that flew into the great hall carrying a long and rather oddly wrapped package which they unceremoniously dropped into Harry's lap while he still lay upon the floor.

Taking the delivered package in one hand Harry stood, dusted himself off, before removing the small card attached to the item left by the owls. After carefully placing the bundle on the table he opened the card to read it. On the inside of the card, in neat script, it simply said ' _Use It Well'_. Harry, who had never received a proper present before, wasted little time and removing the brown wrapping from the item. "It's a broom," he said quizzically, wonder who would have sent it to him.

"Oi! That's not just a broom," Blaise Zabini excitedly exclaimed, suddenly appear at Harry's elbow. "That's a Nimbus 2000!"

Harry quickly learned that it was the newest in the Nimbus line and a very sought after broom. As word spread through the great hall like wild fire, the same students who had just moments before been laughing at his misfortune were suddenly crowding about him begging to be allowed to take the rock-star of brooms for a ride. Amidst all the excitement and near holiday celebration like atmosphere the great hall had suddenly turned into, Harry managed to look towards the head table only to see the Headmaster, a twinkle in his pale eyes, raise his goblet as if in salute to the boy. Harry grinned from ear to ear, believing that the aged wizard was the one who had provided him with the marvelous gift.

"Come on mate," Blaise cried loudly grasping Harry's arm and dragging him down the aisle way between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables, "you have to go test it out!" Surrounded by a great many other boys Harry was forced along till suddenly their way was blocked by a bushy haired witch.

"Harry, stop!" Hermione said in a loud and commanding voice, scolding the emerald eyed boy who tightly grasped his new broom that was the envy of every boy in the room and a fair number of witches as well. "You can't go and fly now, it's nearly time for class and you missed reviewing the material this morning," she told her friend to the amusement of most of the males arranged about the small witch.

Harry regarded the young witch impeding the group's progress towards the doors of the great hall. Inside he struggled with the desire not to fly but to _belong_. All his life he had wanted to be normal. Not the _freak_ his relatives saw him as or The-Boy-Who-Lived which he was quickly realizing the majority of the Wizarding world saw him as. It was the first time he had ever felt like part of a larger group, and it was that camaraderie, that feeling of being ' _just one of the guys_ ' that he so longed for growing up. "Sorry guys. Maybe before dinner," Harry finally said with an appreciative smile towards Hermione who visibly relaxed at his words having feared he would argue with her.

"Honestly, Potter?" Theodore Nott, scoffed loudly in disbelief. "You're going to let some girl tell you what you can and can't do? Why even bother listening to her? She's just a witch!"

Harry quickly stepped to Hermione's side as he turned to address the arrogant boy. "Perhaps when you have the highest grades in our year I'll listen to you," he replied in an even tone. "Till then you might want to give her a listen to as she's clearly smarter than the both of us." Turning to face Hermione he was rewarded with a dazzling smile and cheeks that were a few shades pinker than they normally would be.

Theodore decided that it would be better to not say anything else, especially with so many witches present in the room and all of them armed with wands. Seeing that the excitement was over, the other students moved away, though not without their fair share of grumbling at not being able to see the nearly fabled broom in action.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione nearly squealed once most of the crowd had returned to their tables. She desperately wanted to give the boy who had come to her defense a hug, but was far too shy to do so in the middle of the great hall with the majority of the school watching.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry apologized, his eyes dropping to the floor near his feet. "He shouldn't have spoken to you that way. If I had waited to open the package till later or taken it to my dorm room then none of this would have happened," Harry told her, clearly troubled by what had happened.

"No Harry, it wasn't your fault," she said, laying her hand upon his arm to gather his attention to her. "Boys typically don't think very much of us girls," she tried to explain to him.

Harry's head shot up as he looked at her with an expression of utter disbelief. "Why not?" he asked, finding it hard to believe that anyone wouldn't like Hermione.

The young witch shrugged slightly before answering, "Because they are typically bigger and stronger so they look down on us as being weaker than they are."

"But…but you're bloody brilliant!" Harry exclaimed trying to prove his point.

"Language, Potter!" Hermione and Daphne both chided at the same time as the blonde Slytherin followed by Tracey joined the both of them. The young wizard dutifully looked contrite at the double admonishment.

"You…you don't mind that we're all just girls, do you Harry?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"You're not just girls," Harry replied earnestly, "you're my friends and that to me at least means far more than anything else!" Harry ran a hand through his messy hair before he asked, "You don't mind that I'm a boy do you?"

Tracey snorted before grinning, "No, I think we like you just the way you are, Potter." The other two witches were quick to nod their agreement.

Harry's answering smile was near blinding before he ran off to place his broom away and gather his books from his dorm before joining them in the library. The three witches watched him leave with satisfied smiles of their own due to Harry's response.

"He really has no clue just how different he is from the other boys does he?" Daphne asked with a small little happy smile.

"No," Hermione replied with a shy wistful smile of her own. "He's hopelessly clueless."

"Let's hope he stays that way," Tracey quipped. "He's perfect just being Harry," she added. A fact that all three of them wholeheartedly agreed upon.

**-oOo-**

"He's far too young to be playing, Albus, not to mention the fact that he's woefully small as well," Minerva suggested to the Headmaster who was seated next to her at the head table. They had both watched as Harry had unwrapped the package that had arrived via owl post. The Head of House for Gryffindor hadn't missed her little lion, Hermione, deep in conversation with the other three first year students or how they had all left together. While she was pleased to see House lines broken, she couldn't help but worry for the girl, being the only outsider to the group she now appeared to be a member of. Little did the Transfiguration Professor know that being an ' _Outsider_ ' was exactly why she was part of the group.

"At first glance it would appear so, would it not Minerva?" the Headmaster responded with, a slightly amused expression upon his aged and weathered face. "Few things, I've found, are seldom what they appear at first glance," he added cryptically.

"I can't believe you bought him a new broom as well," the Deputy Headmistress tsked in disapproval of the man's actions both now and concerning the young Potter boy. "And a Nimbus, at that!" she said, getting more riled up the more she thought about it. "You're actually going to allow Mr. Potter to play?"

"There, there, Professor," Albus said as he gently patted the witches forearm reassuringly. "If young Harry has the skill to play then why shouldn't he be allowed to?"

"He could get killed for one thing," McGonagall was quick to reply with. "It was only through dumb luck that he wasn't seriously injured today. It was truly amazing he could fly at all on that old broom."

"Yet fly he did," the aged wizard said as if to prove his point about the boy having the proper skill required to play. "A fact which has now been corrected, I dare say," Albus countered with before the witch could give her retort.

"Surely Albus it can't be good to show such favoritism to the boy," she enquired worriedly, fearful as to what the rest of the students would think upon hearing that the very expensive broom had been provided by the Headmaster.

"Perhaps you are right Professor, but alas it was not I who gifted Harry's new broom to him," the Headmaster admitted with a decidedly mischievous twinkle to his pale eyes. "Perhaps one day young Harry's benefactor will make themselves known to the boy. For now, I believe we are in for an interesting Quidditch season."

**-oOo-**

Ronald Weasley's first week of school at Hogwarts was turning out to be anything but what he had expected it to be. His visions of fun filled days playing chess with his mates, chatting about Quidditch, eating and maybe doing some school work now and then had disappeared into the ether before he knew it.

The school work had proven to be far more difficult than he had expected, though that could partially be contributed to the fact that he didn't seem to pay attention in class or take good notes for afterwards. His plans to find someone to help him with his school work so far had not panned out the way he had hoped. Just when he had thought he would be able to ask Granger for ' _assistance_ ' she had started to spend time with that snake, Greengrass. _How can she choose to sit with a snake over a member of her own house?_ he found himself wondering not for the first time _._

_Bloody hell_ , Ron swore under his breath as he listened in on the conversation between his housemate, Granger, and the three snakes chatting her up. _How can she possibly be friends with them? They're snakes!_ It made absolutely no sense to the young redhead why any Gryff would speak to, let alone hang out with, any snake. _They must have her under an Imperius Curse or something_ , he reasoned. _Why else would she be acting so unnatural?_

That would explain it all of course. _That snake must have used the curse to get himself placed on the Quidditch team. No first year would ever be allowed to play otherwise._ How a mere first year student could have used the Imperius curse on Professor Snape was the only stumbling block to his logic as he saw it. After several moments of intense thought, as well as another mouth full of food, he came to the only possible conclusion. _He's The-Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived. He beat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, cursing someone like Snape would be easy-peasy for someone like him._

The arrival of the Nimbus had been the final straw for the youngest Weasley boy. The fact that a snake had the very broom Ron wanted as well as Granger helping the same snake with his homework on top of making it onto a Quidditch team within days of arriving at Hogwarts was more than just unbelievable. _It's downright unfair!_ Ron seethed silently as he glared at Harry Potter running from the great hall, broom clutched in one hand and waving to Granger and the two other snakes with the other. In a rare moment of mental clarity, it all made perfect sense to Ron. He now knew the reason everything had gone wrong recently in his life. _It's all your fault, Potter!_


	11. Letters

Hermione Granger sat upon the edge of her bed and went through her books, deciding which she would need for the study session and which she could leave behind. It had been agreed that they would all meet in the library to go over the assignments for their double potions class tomorrow as well as to work on the report for Astronomy that Professor Sinistra had assigned them. _Really, only a third of a scroll? She could have made it a bit longer I should think._

Directly after lunch she had attended Charms class where they finished practicing the levitation charm, _Wingardium Leviosa_ , and had moved onto the wand-lighting charm, _Lumos_. Though she had been rather disappointed that she could get little more than a flicker from her wand, she also knew she would just need to practice more. The best part of the class was sitting with her new friends. Harry had sat next to her with Daphne next to him and Tracey on the end.

_Today was a good day_ , she mused silently to herself as she took the rest of her books from her backpack. The fact that she had History of Magic with Ravenclaws after Charms did very little to lessen the smile she'd worn for most the afternoon. _I have friends_ , she silently squealed within the confines of her own mind. "I'll have to write Mum and Dad about it," she stated aloud. It was already Thursday and she had as yet to send a single letter home, she realized with some chagrin.

Never being a witch who liked to put off until later what she could do right away, revise and do again, Hermione quickly found a clean bit of parchment, quill and her ink well before seating herself at the small writing desk next to her bed.

_Dear Mum,_

_Sorry I haven't written sooner than this however there is just so much to do here. You simply must come sometime and visit. Hogwarts is a castle with nearly more rooms and towers than I can count! The number of stairways alone is huge! I'm not exactly certain how many as yet, but I will find out and let you know._

_There are four divisions within the school called Houses. The one I'm in is called Gryffindor. They used a magical hat to determine who is sorted to which house. We had to sit upon a stool in front of the entire school. I confess I was a little nervous but managed to get through it. I'm uncertain why it placed me in Gryffindor as the House is known for bravery. Personally I think I should have been sorted to Ravenclaw, the House known for learning. I guess I still have a lot to learn about magic. My housemates are all wonderful and friendly so no need for you to worry in that regard._

_My classes are going very well. Not to sound full of myself but I think I am a fairly good witch. Surprising isn't it? I believe that Transfiguration is my favorite subject so far. Tomorrow is a full day of brewing potions for us. Thankfully it is nothing like cooking. You know how I am at that. Honestly I think Dad still cringes any time I step within a few feet of the stove. It was just a small fire. Not as if I burnt down the entire house!_

_Last night we had Astronomy for the first time and it was nice. You wouldn't believe the view from the top of the tower out here. Professor Sinistra, our teacher, said it was due to there be no city lights to obscure the view. I guess she would know as that is her area of expertise after all, so I shall have to believe her._

_I've made a few friends already since the term started. I think you would like them. Daphne is an extreme pretty girl with blonde hair that is almost too perfect to be true. I wonder if she uses magic to get it that way? I guess I shall have to ask her. Tracey is Daphne's friend. They've been friends since they were both very little. Tracey is great and knows how to make you laugh. I think she would get on smashingly well with Dad in that regard. I can just imagine them both together in the same room, none of us would be safe from their relentless teasing._

_I met a boy named Harry Potter. He apparently is famous within the Wizarding world. From what I have been able to gather he defeated a bad wizard before he was even two years old. Apparently this was enough to make him a celebrity of sorts. I can't understand why everyone is so thrilled with the fact as I heard that at the same time he lost both his parents. It is all rather sad actually. I couldn't imagine not growing up with you and Dad in my life. Fortunately he has an aunt and uncle to take care of him, however I'm certain it's not the same as having one's own parents._

_Harry is very sweet though also a little socially inept. Before you ask, he is nothing like those boys from my primary school. Harry actually came to my rescue earlier today when another boy was speaking badly of me. It was very gallant of him. I think that's the first time a friend has ever stood up for me. I think I'm really going to like it here, especially now that I have a few friends._

_Harry doesn't seem to have a great deal of experience interacting with other people. He's rather shy and withdrawn as I mentioned. Perhaps he's led a sheltered life? Daphne, Tracey and I have decided to take him in hand so the four of us have taken to studying together in the library. The library here as multiple floors to it! The first time I was in it, a Housemate had to come drag me out or I might have been late for the evening meal. I'm quite certain I shall be spending a great deal of time there!_

_As I am on my way there now to meet for our study group I had better end this here. I am doing well, eating well and sleeping well so please do not worry. I miss you and Dad exceedingly much. Make sure Dad doesn't eat too many sweets. I swear you'd think with being a dentist he would know better!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_PS Don't forget to give a few treats to the owl._

Hermione waited for the ink to dry before rolling up the parchment and turning to place it in her backpack so she could take it to the Owlery before joining the others in the library. As she was doing this, two other first year girls entered the dorm room, whispering to each other excitedly. The young witch turned upon hearing her name spoken hesitantly behind her.

"H-Hermione? Hi I'm Sally-Anne Perks," a slender brunette witch wearing the Gryffindor House colors offered. "This is Lily Moon," she indicated to the Asian girl with her who smiled in way of greeting. "Can we talk to you?"

"Sure," Hermione instantly replied. _This is a different school_ , she reminded herself. It hadn't take the bright girl overly long in Primary school to determine that those who professed to be her friends usually did so to either make fun of her or to coerce her into doing their homework for them. "I'm supposed to meet some others in the library shortly but I have some time," she added and she stood. She would have offered them seats on her bed however it was currently covered with her books.

"Do you know him?" Lily was quick to ask, an element of excitement barely contained within the sound of her voice.

"What's he like?" Sally-Anne quickly followed with, leaning slightly towards the confused bushy haired witch.

"Do I know who? What's who like?" Hermione asked as her brow creased in confusion. While it was clear to her that the two girls wanted to know about someone and they thought she might know, Hermione found herself at a loss as to who they were referring to.

Both witches looked at each other before turning back towards Hermione and answering at the same time, "Harry Potter!"

"Harry?" Hermione asked, still confused though her answer only had the two other witches smiling all the wider. To them she clearly knew the boy if she referred to him by his first name.

"So, you do know him," Lily asked but continued before the queried girl could formulate a response. "Is he as wonderful as the books say he is?"

"Do his eyes truly glow when you look into them?" Sally-Anne enquired.

"Yes, I do know him," Hermione answered Lily's first question, "though we've only just recently become friends." Her words brought a giggle from the petite Asian girl with long black hair. "Why would his eyes glow?" Hermione next asked as she looked towards Sally-Anne, more curious than anything.

"You know, from the books," Sally-Anne replied in a tone that clearly indicated she thought it was common knowledge. "It was from his fight with the vampire king when he was five. Surely you've read the book?"

"I thought it was the ghouls attack on his village that caused his eyes to blaze with an inner fire of injustice and left them that way even after he drove them all off?" Lily offered as she chewed on her bottom lip in thought trying to recall exactly which book it actually came from.

Hermione could do little more than shake her head, not having the slightest clue as to what they were speaking about. _Did Harry really defeat a vampire king at the age of five_ , she wondered. "I'm sorry but I haven't any idea as to what you're talking about."

Sally-Anne just gapped at Hermione in disbelief for a long moment before her eyes widened slightly. It was almost like you could see a light come on inside her head. "You're Muggle-born?"

"Yes, my parents are dentists and both are non-magicals," Hermione replied, disliking the term Muggle, especially when applied to her parents.

"No wonder she doesn't know about The-Boy-Who-Lived!" Lily exclaimed in understanding. "We're both what's called Half-bloods so my Dad is a muggle-born wizard and Sally-Anne's mum is a muggle-born witch."

"There are entire series of books about The-Boy-Who-Lived and the many adventures he had after defeating You-Know-Who." Both girls glanced about nervously as if fearing some dark shadow was suddenly going to spring to life and pounce on them.

"Really?" Hermione found herself asking in disbelief. "What else has he done?" she enquired, suddenly feeling like maybe she had misjudged Harry and he was some famous persona that wouldn't have the time to waste with the likes of her.

"Well, "Lily started ticking off events on her fingers, "there were the ghoul attack and vampire king we already mentioned. He subdued a dragon and then flew on it when he was nine. The time he battled an enraged giant to a standstill when he was six to keep the orphanage safe. He also saved a herd of Unicorn when he was four from being stolen from the Forbidden Forest."

"My personal favorite," Sally-Anne piped in with a large dreamy smile, "was when he out-swam the Mermen at age seven to save the young Merprincess from having to marry the old mean wizard."

"H…Harry did all that?" Hermione asked to clarify, finding it more than a little difficult to believe what she was hearing. Both witches nodded in way of answering.

"We both grew up on bedtime stories about Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and all the wonderful things he's done for the Wizarding world," Sally-Anne replied. "I've always wanted to meet him!"

"Can you introduce us to him, Hermione?" Lily pleaded.

"I…I guess so," Hermione stammered only to hear both witches squeal in glee and jump about as they hugged each other. "However, let me talk to Harry about it first. It would be terribly rude to just suddenly introduce you out of the blue."

"Thanks Hermione! We won't forget this!" Sally-Anne said.

"You're simply the best!" Lily agreed. "We'll let you get back to what you were doing then. See you later," the Asian girl said as she and Sally-Anne made to leave.

_Well that was certainly strange_ , Hermione thought as she quickly threw the stuff she would need into her backpack and ran from the room, slinging the bag over her shoulder. As she stepped through the door and started down the stairs voices floated up to her from below echoing up the circular stairwell.

"See I told you she'd do it."

"Who knew all you had to do was show the know-it-all a little kindness to get her to do something you wanted?"

"I bet we can get her to do our homework for us if we tried. What do you think?"

"I'm not sure I want to be that friendly with the book-worm."

"Yeah you're probably right."

Hermione leaned against the wall, fighting back the tears as she listened to the two girls giggle at her expense. It was her primary school all over again. _Why? I thought it would be different here_. _I was so certain that here would be different because they would be the same as me!_

Try as she might the tears finally trickled down her cheeks. _What did I do wrong?_ She wracked her brain to see how she could have possibly offended either girl, certain she must have done something to warrant such treatment. Hearing someone starting up the stairs the young witch hastily wiped at the tears on her face before adjusting her backpack and dashing down the stairs, through the commons room and out the portal before anyone could see her red and puffy eyes.

It was while she was returning from the Owlery, having ran all the way there so no one could see her tear streaked face, that the little voice inside her head wondered if Harry and the others were the same as her two housemates that had approached her. _Maybe Harry and the others aren't really my friends? Maybe they're just waiting to get me to do things for them as well._ A part of her didn't want to believe it but the other part, the larger part, had already been hurt so many times that she couldn't just dismiss the possibility. Adjusting the strap over her shoulder once more, the backpack suddenly feeling a great deal heavier than it had been previously that day, the confused and hurting witch headed towards the library.

**-oOo-**

"Oi! Crabbe, Goyle, make certain you cut those correctly," the young Malfoy scion barked heatedly from his seat as he watched the other two work. Draco had not been pleased at all when his head of House, Professor Snape, had appeared and informed him that he would be serving detention that evening for having been on his broom the previous day. The young wizard's mood had not improved any when he discovered he would be preparing potions ingredients. After receiving his instruction Draco had waited for the Professor to leave before calling in the two other boys and put them to work in his stead.

"My father will hear about this!" Draco fumed loud enough for Crabbe and Goyle to hear him. "I think it is time to let my father know exactly what is happening here!" The other boys grinned knowing that if the head of the Malfoy family became involved, then someone was sure to be sacked. The blonde wizard pulled parchment and writing utensils from his pack and began to write.

_Father,_

_School goes well. The work is simple and I am at the head of all my courses, of course. The only thing more disappointing than what passes for classes here is what they are accepting as students these days. It pains me to see how far Hogwarts has fallen after listening to your stories of when you attended these hallowed halls. Half-bloods and mud-bloods all over the place mixing freely with Purebloods as if they had a right to or something. I can't believe I have to breathe the same air as them! You always did say that with Dumbledore as Headmaster things would only go from bad to worse. I see now just how right you were._

_I am writing with news that Harry Potter has indeed come to Hogwarts this year. Surprisingly though, the half-blood was sorted into Slytherin. From what I can tell he is a subpar wizard at best, just barely above squib. He must have some leverage over Professor Snape though. I say this due to the fact that Potter can barely sit a broom and yet Snape made him the Seeker for the House Quidditch team this year. I told him that I could have made the team if I had wanted to and that you would have bought me the best broom available should I have but asked. You would, would you not?_

_Tell my mother that I am well and I send my regards._

_Draco_

_PS Anything regarding the Greengrass matter?_

Draco read the letter over before rolling the parchment up and slipping it into his pocket. "I need to go send this to my father before curfew. Finish what you're doing and then leave before Professor Snape returns," he told Crabbe and Goyle before walking from the room, confident that even two lowbrows, such as they were, couldn't mess that up.

The young Malfoy was lost in angry thoughts as he strode along. _Why did Snape wait till now to give me detention for what I did yesterday? He could have easily of dragged me in with Potter when he was right there with us both._ "Potter," the young heir cursed aloud vehemently. "He must have ratted me out to Snape so that he wouldn't be the only one in trouble." Draco cracked a small crooked grin as he thought about it a bit more. "How very Slytherin of you, Potter," he begrudgingly offered aloud seeing the cunning of the other boy. "So that is how he got out of detention himself and I find myself in it? I guess this means war," he chuckled to himself in a very cruel fashion, relishing the coming challenge.

**-oOo-**

Daphne Greengrass bit down on the end of her quill and read over the letter to her parents for the third time. She always felt like she never knew what to say when writing her mother and father. It wasn't like writing her sister after all, which was much easier, given their close relationship.

_Dear Parents,_

_Father, you will be pleased to know that, like yourself when you attended your first year at Hogwarts, I was sorted into Slytherin. The Sorting Hat could not at first decide where to place me, but as Tracey had previously been sorted to Slytherin I requested that it sort me the same. Some may think that would be enough to see me in Hufflepuff, but apparently not. Perhaps we do have some say in the matter of our sorting. Maybe we can have Astoria test that hypothesis when she arrives her first year?_

_Classes are going rather well and I dare say that I actually enjoy them. While I find the work challenging, it is a muggle born witch who seems rather bent on performing better than myself in almost every class that is truly the challenge. As you can well imagine, we've become friends of a sort. It has raised more than one eyebrow as she is a Gryffindor of all things. I believe that Hermione Granger will certainly force me to do my best, and then some perhaps. I am looking forward to seeing just which of us will be at the head of the class by end of term._

_Tracey asked that I send along her regards. She certainly makes being here a great deal easier. I just wish that she would take a greater interest in her studies. She could do so much better if she put forth just a bit more effort. Still, I guess that is Tracey and it is too late for her to change now._

_Granger, Davis and I have formed a study group along with two other boys who are from Slytherin. I'm not bragging but I believe we may be the brightest in our year. Speaking of which, I am due to meet them in the library so I had best end this for now._

_I am well so please do not worry about me. I do miss all of you very much though. Please keep a close watch on Astoria as you know how dark her moods can get when we are separated. I would hate for the poor dear to become ill as she did last time I went away. I was only at Tracey's for a week that time, so I can only imagine how bad she will become with us being apart for months at a time. I do so worry about her._

_Lovingly,_

_Daphne_

The blonde witch sighed, scanning the letter once more. Using her wand she quickly erased _Parents_ at the beginning and replaced it with _Mother & Father_, feeling it would be less formal and a warmer greeting. After waiting a moment to let the new ink dry, she rolled up the letter and set it aside. "I guess that shall have to do. They shouldn't expect too much as it is only the fifth day since I left after all," she reasoned aloud to herself. Taking a fresh bit of parchment she dipped her quill and started on the second letter she would need to send.

_Dearest Astoria,_

_Hello my Sweet. How are you fairing? It has been only five days since I left, yet I still miss you greatly. I hope you are not giving Mother or Father a difficult time of it. Are you? I know it is difficult to be apart, but the holidays will be here before you know it and I will be back home so please do not fret or you shall make yourself ill like last time._

_I will tell you now about Hogwarts as I promised. I was sorted into Father's old House of Slytherin, just as we suspected. The Sorting Hat talks to you and it seems as if you can actually persuade it to place you in the House you wish. Perhaps we should test this when you arrive and see if you can get into one of the other houses. You are certainly bright enough to be in Ravenclaw, my Sweet!_

_The castle here is enormous. Far grander than I thought it would be. I know we used to think of it like a fairy tale princess's castle, but it is so much larger and far too different to be that. I think you will enjoy the Grande Staircase due to its mischievous nature that reminds me so often of you. The stairs have the habit of moving while you are traversing them, delivering you at a landing you did not intend to reach. It can be rather frustrating when you are rushing to reach class on time._

_Classes are interesting. We had our first flying lesson and despite your rather ungenerous prediction, no, I did not fall off my broom! It was actually rather exhilarating while managing to be utterly terrifying at the same time. I somehow think you shall find it all of the former and none of the latter when it is your turn. You always have been the more reckless of the two of us. A fact that has caused me no end of worry where you are concerned sister mine._

_I simply must tell you what happened on the way to school but you must not tell anyone. I have not even told this to Tracey. Sisters pact and that's a fact! For reasons I shall not go into at this time, I was forced to flee my compartment and seek shelter elsewhere. A boy with black hair came to my rescue. He was sitting atop the train car of all places! I joined him there and when he saw I was chilled he took his own robes off and placed them around me. It truly must have been cold for him yet he seemed not to mind. When I finally made to return to my compartment he helped me down the ladder using his own body to shield me should I fall. It was very chivalrous of him._

_Later that evening he was sorted into Slytherin House along with Tracey and me. You're not going to believe this, but the boy is Harry Potter! The Harry Potter! Remember to breathe, my Sweet! We were all so certain that Harry would have been sorted into Gryffindor, but the sorting hat placed him in Slytherin. You can well imagine that this caused more than one brow to rise in confusion. Even the Headmaster appeared a bit shocked._

_If you are good and do not give Father or Mother a difficult time perhaps I will introduce you to him at the end of the school year. Breathe, my Sweet. Breathe! I fear though that I must tell you that he is not the boy your books make him out to be. Rather than the dashing Prince of a hero he is much more real…yes I guess real would be the best word to describe him._

_Harry is rather quiet and shy but also very sweet. He doesn't seem to have had many friends growing up, which is hard to imagine. I simply can't fathom what my life would be like without you and Tracey in it. He's the savior of the Wizarding world, yet he seems to know hardly anything about it. I can't go into details, but his childhood is certainly nothing like in the books. It is all so very sad and very tragic. There are certainly a great many things concerning Harry that just do not add up. He is a mystery for certain._

_Tracey and I, along with a Gryffindor witch named Hermione Granger, have befriended Harry and the four of us study together. We may add another boy to our group, but for now it is just the four of us. I'm certain that when you get here I can introduce you so that you might become Harry's friend as well. You can come and study with us. Maybe Harry will even help you with your homework, hm? Breathe, my Sweet! Remember to breathe!_

_Well, My Sweet, I am due in the library to meet Harry and the others to go over homework. Do try to stay out of trouble. Watch after Father and Mother, especially the former as you know how he can get when he works too much._

_Loving you more than should be legal,_

_Daphne_

Reading the letter over once again Daphne smiled fondly at the _Sister pact and that's a fact_ , trying to ignore the pain in her chest she felt due to missing Astoria. Sister Pact and that's a fact was a sing-song promise they had used since they were both tiny. It was an agreement akin to a sacred vow between the two of them that anything offered was held in the strictest of confidence never to be divulged to another soul. The Slytherin witch well knew of her sister's near hero worship of The-Boy-Who-Lived and couldn't wait to see Astoria's reaction when she actually met Harry. _I wouldn't be surprised if the poor dear fainted right on the spot!_ For the time being she planned on teasing the younger girl as much as one could through owl post.

"I wonder if I should warn him a head of time?" she pondered aloud, thinking it might be just as comical to see Harry's reaction to Astoria.

"Warn who of what?" Tracey queried from behind her, having heard the comment as she approached her friend where she was seated at her writing desk.

"I wrote Astoria and told her that I met Harry," Daphne replied with a grin as she quickly rolled the letter up before the other girl could read any of it.

"Don't you mean _Her_ Harry Potter?" Tracey asked with a humorous snort and an eye roll, well aware of the younger Greengrass girl's near obsession for The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Just because she claims she's going to marry Harry someday doesn't mean it isn't going to happen," Daphne chortled. "Please refrain from laughing at my sister's dreams," the blonde witch said, masking her own humor with a mock stern countenance. "Harry could do far worse than my little sister actually."

"I don't argue the fact," Tracey replied, holding up her hands as if surrendering. "Still, you might want to give him a bit of a warning before he sports an Astoria growing from his hip. Given how clingy she is with you I can only imagine what she will be like with Harry."

"Thankfully that is still two years away," Daphne replied with a grin. "Ready to go to the library and meet up with Hermione?"

The two Slytherin witches made their way up from the Dungeons to the third floor via the Grande Stairway and spotted a familiar bushy haired witch making her way up the stairs as well and so decided to wait for her after reaching the correct floor.

"Fancy meeting you here," Tracey quipped playfully upon seeing the Gryffindor witch with her head down lost in thought.

"Oh, hi," Hermione replied, a bit startled not having realized either witch was standing there waiting for her.

"Alright there, Granger?" Daphne asked, sensing that the fellow first year witch was not herself.

Hermione forced a smile on her face and squared her shoulders. There was no way that she could tell them that she was doubting their friendship. _What if I'm wrong? What if they really want to be friends? It would be unforgiveable to say something like that to them._ "Just sent a letter home," she offered. "A bit of home sickness I guess." The little voice in her head told her to prepare for the worse and that she was just setting herself up to be hurt yet again.

Nodding in understanding, Daphne replied, "I did the same. Had to write my Father and Mother as well as my sister. It's hard being away from her," she confessed with a sad little sigh.

"It's a little unreal just how close you and Astoria are, you know that right?" Tracey said. "Siblings are supposed to fight and argue, not get along like the best of friends. Right?" Tracey asked looking towards Hermione for support.

"Only child here so I wouldn't know," Hermione offered with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders.

"Well, I would much rather be close to the little brat," Daphne replied in an attempt to hide just how much she loved her little sister, "then have to fight and argue with her."

"Shall we?" Tracey asked gesturing towards the library hallway, deciding not to pursue the previous topic any further. The auburn haired witch well knew just how much Daphne loved her younger sibling and if she were to be honest with herself, she knew she would find that she was a little jealous of their closeness. "That Astronomy scroll isn't going to write itself."

"Shouldn't we wait for Harry?" Hermione asked in a surprised tone as the other two girl turned to head for the library.

"I doubt we'll see him till tomorrow," Tracey told her matter-of-factly as they started down the hallway together once Hermione fell into step with the two Slytherins. "He received a new broom today so he's out showing it off just like any other boy his age would be doing. Remember how everyone at lunch was clamoring for a chance to ride it?"

"Tracey has the right of it," Daphne offered in way of agreement as they entered the library and headed to the group tables adjacent to the bookshelves were Harry had transfigured the books into pins. It had somehow, through silent agreement, become their place to meet and study. It was also possible that it was simply because it was the one place within the library they all were familiar with. "We'll be lucky if Harry doesn't get himself hurt on that broom. Boys will be boys after all," she added.

"And Harry will be Harry," Hermione said over her shoulder as she was walking in front and so was the first to see the emerald eye wizard already seated at a table and working diligently on his school work. A brief smile touched the Gryffindor's lips for the first time since leaving her dorm room till once more the small voice told her not to get her hopes up. Just as quickly as it appeared the smile slipped from her face.

**-oOo-**

Harry looked up as the witches took seats at the table. Tracey slipped into the seat next to him while Hermione the one across from him and Daphne next to her. "Hi, guys," he offered with a big smile upon seeing them.

"Honestly Potter, how many time must I tell you we're not guys," Tracey quipped playfully. The auburn haired witch couldn't help but laugh as the young wizard tried to stammer out an apology. "It's alright, Harry. We know what you meant. I was just having a go at you is all, honestly."

"Pay her no mind, Harry," Daphne said with a warm smile in way of greeting. "She's like that with everyone. Surprising as it may sound you do eventually get used to it."

"I'll take your word for it, Daphne," Harry offered only to grin upon seeing the offended look on Tracey's face at her friend's words. "Hi Hermione," Harry offered turning to watch as the witch across from him set her stuff out to begin working on the class assignment.

"Hi Harry," Hermione replied keeping her head down and not looking at the boy across from her. "How was your Defense Against the Dark Arts class?" she asked off handedly as she opened her ink well and dipped her quill, apparently not paying a great deal of attention to his response. The young witch was afraid that if she were to look at any of them that they would see her thoughts and fears in her eyes and know that she suspected that they were simply using her like the others had. _It would hurt so much to discover for sure that they are just playing with me._

"It was fairly good. We discussed _The Curse of the Bogies_ ," Harry replied excitedly. He rather enjoyed the class and had been looking forward to talking about it with his friends, especially the Gryffindor witch as she had not been in his class as Slytherins had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaws.

"Well that's good," Hermione replied as she started to work on her essay. Focusing on the parchment before her she failed to see the wizard look at the two other witches or to see their answering shrug of not knowing.

The four of them worked in silence for the most part though every now and then one of them would pose a question and another would offer an opinion or suggestion. Through this all Hermione remained suspiciously silent and detached. Not surprisingly, as he had arrived first and started working on his essay before the others, Harry was the first to complete his report. Earlier that evening he had seen several housemates writing letters to their parents and had decided that he should do the same. Slipping a clean piece of parchment out of his bag he dipped his quill and began to write.

_Dear Aunt & Uncle,_

_School is very exciting and I am enjoy it very much. There is so much to see and do. I promise that I will try my best and stay out of trouble as I know how you dislike that. As much as I like it here I fear you would not as you can well imagine there is a great deal of freakishness that happens here. Do not worry for I shall not mention any of that to you. Hogwarts is a huge castle that is incredibly old._

_Well, I just wanted to let you know that I had arrived here fine and that I was getting on in my studies. Tell Dudley I said hello and I hope to see you for the holidays._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

The young wizard looked over the letter finding it extremely short. _What exactly can you write about when they don't want to hear about anything magical?_ he thought to himself. _Guess it can't be helped_ , he reasoned as he rolled it up and set it aside.

"Harry," Tracey suddenly spoke into the silence, "weren't you going to fly your broom after dinner?"

"I gave it to Zabini," Harry replied as if it was no major thing, as he pulled his potions book from his backpack and opened it to the lesson for tomorrow.

"WHAT!" all three witches exclaimed in unison.

"Harry, you should have been the first one to ride it," Hermione said, suddenly feeling guilty about having stopped him from riding it at lunch time.

"I'll have loads of time to ride it once everyone is done," Harry replied, finding the reactions of the three girls to be mildly amusing, considering it was his broom.

"Everyone?" Daphne asked, fearing the answer.

"I did promise everyone at lunch they could have a turn," Harry responded with calmly. "I meant that when I said it so Blaise said he'd take care of it. Honestly, it's not that big of a deal."

"It is a big deal!" Tracey protested. "It's a Nimbus 2000! Even I know how big of a deal that is! You should have been the first to ride it at least!"

Harry shrugged dismissively before mumbling a reply. "I had something more important to do."

"What could have been so important that it couldn't have waited till after you rode your new broom for the first time?" Daphne asked in disbelief.

Harry looked from face to face to face and then down at his book, his face reddening slightly. "Look," he suddenly said in a slightly defensive tone, "It's just a broom. Being here with you three is far more important than some bloody broom, alright!"

"Language," all three witches said at the same instant with rapidly reddening cheeks due to the boy's words.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, dutifully chastised.

Silenced reigned for a long moment before the young Gryffindor witch broke it with a heavy sigh. "I'm not feeling well so I think I'm going to go back early tonight," Hermione said as she began putting her stuff away. The three others at the table shot each other worried looks.

"I…I'll walk you back," Harry said, rising to his feet.

"That's alright, you don't have to," Hermione said without meeting his eyes. "I'm certain I can find my own way.

"Please, Hermione?" Harry asked in a soft voice. "I really want to, even though I know I don't need to." Seeing no way around it, the young witch gave a slight nod of acceptance with her head. "I'll come back for my stuff," Harry said with a glance towards Daphne and Tracey who both nodded in understanding. Reaching over Harry took Hermione's backpack from her, slipping the strap over his shoulder before she could protest and offered her his arm remembering that Tracey had said it was the proper way to escort a lady home. "Shall we?

**-oOo-**

Hermione's head hurt from thinking so much and yet no matter how much she pondered it she still could not come to a conclusion. All through the time in the library she knew she was being rude, more or less ignoring the others there and focusing only on her work. _The longer I continue to be their friend the more it's going to hurt when they turn on me_ , she told herself. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to just leave. It wasn't until Harry said that being there with them, with her, was more important than some broom that she knew she had to leave. The pain and hurt were just too great for her young heart to take. It was only through a sheer force of will that she had managed to keep from breaking down crying right then and there in front of them all.

"Thank you, Harry, but you really don't have to do this," Hermione said as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed herself to be led away. _Is he just doing this so that I'll trust him? Is it all just a part of their game?_

"I know," Harry assured her, "but I wanted to," he added as he led her through the rows of book cases and headed for the main entrance to the Library. "Hermione?"

_Here it comes. He's going to ask that I do his homework or help him with something else._ "Hmm," she replied with her head down watching her shoes.

"I…I'm sorry," Harry said in a woeful tone starring at his own shoes and thus missing the witch's head snap up and look towards him sharply. "I don't know what I did, but whatever it was I want you to know that I'm sorry for it."

"Harry, what makes you think you did something wrong?" Hermione asked, wondering if he was feeling guilty for leading her on and was apologizing for his duplicity.

The young wizard gave a lopsided, disheartened shrug of his shoulders, "I don't know. Why else would you be mad at me? I must have done something terribly wrong."

"No, Harry," Hermione replied, her chest aching at the dejected tone of the boy's voice. "I'm not mad at you. Really," she quickly added upon seeing Harry glance towards her, a look of disbelief on his face. "I…I just have something on my mind is all."

"Is it something I can help with?" Harry asked, anxious to help his friend in any way possible.

"No," she responded with slowly, drawing the word out. "It's just something I think I need to work through on my own."

Harry pondered her words for a long moment as they left the library and walked towards the Grande Stairway. "I know! Hermione, will you come with me?"

"I'm really tired, Harry," Hermione replied trying to keep from going with the boy.

"I read someplace that it helps to take your mind off of a matter for a bit," Harry replied. "Maybe this will help with whatever you're thinking about."

"Where to, Harry?" she asked in a curious tone of voice, having heard similar logic before. _I might as well enjoy the friendship while it lasts_.

"There's someone I would like for you to meet!" Harry replied, a smile blossoming upon his face. "It won't take long, I promise." Only slightly reluctant, the young witch agreed, and soon found herself once again at the Owlery. Once inside Harry held out his arm and called, "Come here girl!"

Hermione gasped as white form dropped out of nowhere to alight upon the young man's arm. "Oh Harry, she's gorgeous!" Hermione exclaimed, forgetting all else, upon seeing the stunning snowy owl.

Harry beamed proudly till his ear was nipped by the owl on his arm. "Ouch! That hurt!" he said accusingly while looking at the bird sternly as it fussed and made noises at him. "I know, I know and I am sorry," he offered reaching up to gently rub the soft feathers behind one eye ridge. "You'll have to pardon her, she a bit cross that I haven't come to see her sooner," Harry explained. "This is the first time I've made it out here since we arrived."

"Then she is rightly so for being cross with you, Harry," Hermione scolded in a disapproving tone of voice.

"Hermione, this is Hedwig," Harry introduced her to his owl. "Hedwig, this is Hermione Granger, my first friend ever."

Hermione's breathe hitched in her throat at his words and it took her a moment to reply due to the lump in her throat. "It's a pleasure to meet you Hedwig. You're an extremely beautiful Owl."

Hedwig tilted her head to one side and eyed the young witch up and down before suddenly leaping from Harry's arm to Hermione's and promptly nuzzling the young girl under her chin with the top of her head.

"I think she likes me!" Hermione exclaimed, enjoying the feel of the soft feathers against the underside of her chin.

"What's not to like?" Harry offered without a thought. "I couldn't ask for a better friend than you, Hermione."

The young witch could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks at his words. "I think you'd best take her back before I become too attached to her and won't want to give her back," she said with a nervous chuckle.

Harry accepted his familiar back before setting her on a nearby perch. As he spoke he removed the letter to his Aunt and uncle from his pocket and fastened it to the owl's leg. "Hedwig, now I need you to listen to me." Hedwig paused and cocked her head to one side, listening intently. "If Hermione here ever needs to send a letter, would you be willing to take it for her?" Hedwig bobbed her head up and down, a clear answer to his request.

"Oh Harry I could never do that," Hermione protested, truly touched by the generous offer. "Hedwig is your beautiful owl, I could never…"

"Nonsense," Harry replied stopping the girl's denial of the use of his owl. "She's far faster and a great deal smarter than the school owl's I'll wager." Hedwig seemed to stand straighter and puff out her chest a bit more. "She loves to fly so it will be good for her as well. You're the first person I've introduced her to and she's taken an instant liking to you. I'm sure she would be happy to deliver your letters, Hermione."

"Why…why would you do this for me, Harry?" Hermione asked, once again trying to hold back tears at the generous actions of the boy before her.

"Cause you're my friend," Harry replied, becoming confused by the sorrowful note in the witch's voice. With a slight motion of his arm he sent Hedwig on her way to deliver his letter.

Hermione shook her head and turned away, unable to look at the boy as the first tears slipped free of her eyes and made a slow lazy trail down her cheeks. "I…I don't deserve your friendship, Harry," she manage to stammer out realizing that she had been a fool to have ever doubted, to have every thought such terrible things about Harry, Daphne and Tracey.

"Hermione, I don't understand," Harry said, starting to panic. "Did I do something wrong again? If I did I'm sorry for it." Emotionally upset girls were not something he had a great deal of experience with. The fact of the matter was he really didn't have any experience with girls at all except for what he had gained the past few days. Harry felt terribly inadequate to deal with the girl before him.

The bushy head in front of the wizard almost violently shook back and forth at his words. "No, it's nothing you did, Harry. I've done something so terrible. I was angry and hurt and mad at all of you. I…I thought you were simply using me to get what you wanted. I…I…" the young witches shoulders shook with not so silent sobs for a long moment before she could continue. "I didn't trust you at all. I was mean to you and certainly not behaving how a friend should have been." There was a long moment of silence behind her and she just knew he was going to turn and walk away from her. _How could I ever hope they would still be my friend after the way I treated them?_ she reasoned.

"How about now," came Harry's soft voice when he finally spoke. "Do you trust me now?"

"I…I do," she stammered out between sobs. "But I don't deserve you're friendship or that of the others. How could I have been so stupid? I should-" her words were stopped by a pair of hands on her shoulders turning her about before drawing the into the forgiving warmth of a hug.

"It's alright," Harry said reassuringly while he hugged his friend as she cried on his shoulder. "You deserve a much better friend than me, Hermione," he told her as he awkwardly rubbed small circles on her back with his hand in an attempt to be supportive and reassuring. "You deserve loads of friends and they would all be very fortunate to have you. Just as I am."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Harry," she sobbed into his shoulder feeling miserable about what she had done. The first time she had a real friend and she had been so quick, so ready to just toss him aside without even giving him a chance. In broken sobs and stammered words she slowly told him what had happened earlier with her housemates. Once she started talking she found that she couldn't stop and went on to tell him about how her classmates at primary school had feigned friendship so that she would do their homework or help them with their lessons.

"Well then, I'll meet them," Harry finally said.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed lifting her head from his shoulder as the tears had mostly stopped by then. "Why would you do something like that?"

"You're my friend. My very first friend, Hermione. If meeting them will make your life easier for you then I'll meet each and every Gryffindor member if that's what it takes," Harry told her with conviction.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed before pulling the startled wizard into a bone breaking hug. "You really are too sweet, Harry Potter," she said stepping back and releasing the boy once again. "Oh, I probably look frightful," she said, wiping at her cheeks with both hands as she stepped away from the wizard with her.

The-Boy-Who-Lived was certain that sort of comment required an answer on his part though sadly he had no clue what a proper one would be. "No different than normally," he finally replied, believing that it was safe to say she looked as nice as she always did rather than agreeing that she looked frightful.

"Prat!" Hermione said swatting his shoulder a bit playfully. "You're supposed to say I look beautiful," she chided.

"I see," Harry said thoughtfully for a moment. "Rule number twenty-seven. After a girl cries tell her she looks beautiful."

"Exactly!" Hermione quipped in agreement.

"Right. Good to know," Harry stated a bit nervously, wondering how he was going to remember all these rules when dealing with girls and perhaps more importantly, was there going to be a test on them?

Reaching into his pocket Harry pulled out a threadbare handkerchief from within it. It was old and dingy from years of use by his uncle, but his aunt had packed it in with his school stuff. So far he had been afraid to use it but he figured now was as good a time as ever. Stepping forward slightly he reached up and wiped away the tears from her cheeks. "Hermione, the reason I said you looked as you always do is because you always look beautiful."

The now blushing witch stared at the boy for a long intense moment before she replied. "Nice recovery, Potter."

"There, I think that's all of it," Harry said, slipping the bit of cloth back into his pocket. "Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm to her once again.

Hermione smiled and slipped her hand once again into the crook of his elbow, pulling his arm up close to her side. The two of them left the Owlery and proceeded back to the castle and up to the seventh floor before either broke the silence.

"Harry?" the brunette girl finally voiced as they neared the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Hm?" the boy asked absently, having been pondering the fate of his broom, content to enjoy the comfortable silence and suspecting that the witch with him might be a little embarrassed from crying.

"Thank you," she said, turning to give him a hug and leave a tender kiss on his cheek before slipping through the portal into Gryffindor tower.

**-oOo-**

Harry turned about with a small smile on his face, wondering just how his life had gone from being lonely to having friends, receiving hugs and light kisses on the cheek in such a short amount of time. Being here was far different than his primary school where he had always needed to be on his guard from his cousin and the kids that hang out with Dudley. _I think I might just come too really like it here_ , he mused silently.

"Oi, what are you doing up here, snake?" asked a boy with flaming red hair who Harry recognized as the youngest Weasley Gryffindor. "Shouldn't your kind be down in the Dungeons with the other least likeable and often despised sorts?"

"Hermione was not feeling well so I offered to escort her home is all, Weasley," Harry explained simply. _This is one of Hermione's friends_ , he reminded himself.

"You should stick to your own kind, Potter," the boy said getting up into Harry's face in the threatening manner. "Snakes and Lions don't mix in case no one has told you. Stay away from my housemates, Potter."

Harry paused long enough to lick his lips before he replied in a polite tone. "I would think that is a choice Hermione can make for herself, mate."

"I'm not your mate, have never been your mate and will never be your mate," Ron spat out like the very thought of it tasted wrong on his tongue. "Granger may be enamored with your fame as The-Boy-Who-Lived, but sooner or later she will come to her senses and realize that you're nothing more than a snake. She's a bright witch and when she realizes her mistake she'll cut her friendship with you faster than a Snitch sprouts wings! Stay away from Granger!" Ron threatened before angrily pushing past the dark haired wizard and entering the Gryffindor tower through the portal.

Harry could do little more than watch the angry young wizard leave, absently rubbing his shoulder where it hurt from the rough handling, confused by the redhead's unwarranted hostilities. As he retraced his steps to the library he couldn't help but think over the boy's words and the accusations he had made. _Is she really only here because of my fame?_ Harry just couldn't picture Hermione being that way, especially after the events in the Owlery just a bit earlier. _No_ , he thought, emphasizing it with a shake of his head, _Hermione is my friend_. Like the witch in question, there was a small voice at the back of his mind that whispered to him about what had happened with the last ' _friend_ ' he had. Harry knew that in this case, where Hermione was concerned, he could ignore the small voice trying to cause him doubt.

Upon reaching the library he quickly made his way over to the tables they had been seated at previously. The young wizard was not surprised to find the table now empty as his trip with Hermione had taken longer than he had thought that it would. He honestly hadn't counted on the trip to the Owlery with her. With a resigned sigh he began to retrace his steps and headed for the Dungeon, believing that would be where he would find his backpack. As Harry reached the bottom of the stairs he was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Perfect timing, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said upon seeing the young boy. "Let us head to the hospital so that we can start your treatment."

Realizing that it was almost the time he had agreed upon to meet with the head nurse, Harry could do little more than nod and fall into step beside the older woman. Once in the hospital wing she directed him to a screened off bed and instructed him to change into the waiting sleep ware and climb into the bed.

"Nasty business growing bones," the medical witch told him as she walked back into the small enclosed area around the bed carrying two small vials. "This one will help your bones grow," she said, holding up one vial with a brownish colored liquid in it. "This one will help relax your muscles," she stated holding the other vial up which was filled with a milky blue substance. "I'd advise taking both as once as neither taste particularly good I fear."

Harry did as instructed, downing both at the same time, only to have his face scrunch up at the awful taste. Upon seeing his face Poppy couldn't help but chuckle. "It would seem terribly wrong to say thank you after having had to taste something like that," Harry intoned once he could speak.

"Well, I did warn you that its taste was none to pleasant did I not? Try to get some rest Mr. Potter. I'll be by to check on you in a little while," Poppy said as she lowered the lights with a wave of her wand before stepping out, only after making certain the boy was lying down in bed now and attempting to rest.

Harry had been lying there for several minutes and could just start to feel a tingling sensation within his bones when there came a soft clearing of the throat just outside his screened off area. "Harry? Can I come in?" asked a soft female voice in a hushed whisper.

**-oOo-**

"I wonder what's up with her?" Tracey asked once Harry and Hermione were out of sight.

"Not sure," Daphne replied in a thoughtful tone as if pondering the matter. "She certainly wasn't her usually perky self was she?"

The two Slytherin witches continued to work for another hour before deciding that Harry may not be coming back. Through mutual agreement they gathered their things up and headed back to the Slytherin commons room, after Tracey picked up Harry's backpack to bring with them. Upon reaching the Slytherin House they were greeted by a group of boys laughing and talking loudly all of them gathered around Blaise Zabini who was holding Harry's broom.

"Merlin's beard, Blaise! What have you done?" Tracey exclaimed upon seeing the broom.

"What?" Blaise replied glancing down at the broom and its bent and broken twigs and scraped handle.

"What happened to Harry's Nimbus?" the irate witch asked as her temper mounted.

"Oh a few blokes couldn't handle the speed and managed to run into a few things," Blaise replied as if it was not an issue. "That git Malfoy even managed to fly it into a tree! It was a pain in the arse to get it down too. I think it broke a twig or two."

"That was a gift to Harry and he entrusted you with it!" Daphne snapped, her face flushed with anger at the clear disregard for her friend's property.

"What? It's not like it can't be fixed," Blaise replied a bit defensively, not appreciating the anger he was receiving from the two young witches. "No need to throw a wobbler. It's not like it's your broom after all. Potter will understand."

"How would you like it if you received a new broom and before you could even ride it the thing was brought back to you with bent and broken twigs and a scratched up handle?" Tracey snapped, trying to make the boy understand.

"I would have made certain I had rode it first," Blaise quipped without thinking. The scream of sheer frustration which issued from the blonde witch before him actually frightened him as well as caused everyone present to take several steps away from the dark skinned boy, fearing that the hexes were about to start flying. Baffled, Blaise watched as Daphne grabbed a backpack from the witch next to her while handing hers over in its place and then stormed from the room after shooting the boy a fiery glare that could have boiled water…while melting the table it sat upon.

Tracey slung her friend's backpack over her shoulder with her own as she watched Daphne storm from the Slytherin common room and back out into the dungeon before she turned to regard the boy they were now both thoroughly upset with. "You had best see that it is fixed before you give it back to Harry!" Not waiting for a respose the auburn haired witch stormed off to the girl's dormitory muttering under her breath about clueless boys and why they couldn't be more like Harry.

**-oOo-**

The blonde witch stormed through the passageways with Harry's backpack over her right shoulder. _I can't believe that he would be so irresponsibly_ , she fumed silently as she reached the Grande Stairway and turned down the hospital hallways. _Harry trusted him to take care of the broom!_ In short order she found herself within the hospital and suddenly had to pause and gather her thoughts.

"I'll just do a bit of studying," she said aloud before making her way to Madam Pomfrey's office only to find it empty. It was only after she had taken a seat, slung the backpack off her shoulder and opened it that she realized that it was Harry's and not her own. With a slight shrug she slipped the potions book out and opened it to the next day's lesson.

She had only been reading for a short time when she heard the medical witch come in and instruct someone to go change and climb into bed. Daphne looked up from the book on the desk as the older witch entered the office, pausing only slightly upon seeing the girl seated at her desk with her nose in a book. "Sorry for just barging in, Madam Pomfrey," Daphne offered apologetically.

"That's alright," the Nurse said, waving one hand in a dismissing manner. "I did tell you that you could come study any time." Having said that the school Nurse proceeded over to a cabinet and removed two vials. "I may have need of you here in a bit anyways so I'm rather glad you're here, actually."

"Need of me, Ma`am?" Daphne asked with a slightly perplexed expression.

"We'll see if you truly have your mother's healing touch or not, Child," the nurse replied before slipping out of the office and disappearing into a curtained off area in the back corner of the hospital wing. In short order the nurse returned with the two now empty vials. "Why don't you wait a few minutes and then go check on our patient, Mr. Potter," Poppy said with a slight grin at the look of surprise on the young witches face.

Barely able to wait the prescribed time Daphne hesitantly approached the curtained off area and cleared her throat softly. "Harry? Can I come in?" she asked.

"Daphne?" Harry's puzzled voice replied. "Yes, please do," the young wizard hastily said once he had gotten over the surprise of hearing her voice.

"Hi," she offered with a small smile and hand wave as she stuck her head into the area and then stepped further in. "I hope I'm not disturbing you?"

"No, not at all," Harry replied with a slight shake of his head to emphasize his words. "I'm just trying to get the nasty taste of those potions out of my mouth."

"Would you like a drink of water?" the young girl asked. Seeing the boy nod she quickly went and gathered one, pausing to make certain with Poppy that it was alright that he have it. "Here," she said handing him the glass as she took a seat on the edge of his bed as he sat up and accepted the refreshing liquid.

"Thanks. That's loads better," Harry said after taking a long pull from the glass before setting it aside and laying back down with a wince as a sharp pain shot up one leg and along an arm.

"Does it hurt," Daphne asked seeing his eye scrunch slightly.

"A bit," he admitted as he situated himself. "I suspect it will hurt more in a little while as it is just starting," he added as an afterthought.

The bright witch seemed to come to some decision and then stood up rather abruptly. "Budge up a bit, Harry," she told him.

"What?" Harry responded in confusion as she stepped to the head of the bed and motioned for him to make room for her. "You don't have to do anything, really," he objected, moving over none the less as he could clearly see, even in the dim lighting, that she was not going to take no for an answer. In short order The-Boy-Who-Lived soon found himself laying on his side, his head cradled in the blonde witch's lap.

"When I was a very little girl, a long time ago," she said as she got comfortable leaning against the head of the bed, "my mother used to do this for me whenever I didn't feel well. When my sister was smaller I would do it for her whenever she had a bad night. You can NOT tell her that I did this! She would be ever so terribly jealous of you," Daphne said aloud. _As well as jealous of me for doing this to_ her _Harry, no doubt_.

"Alright," Harry said shakily, not even certain just what was going to be done as yet. Before he could say more he felt the girl's fingers begin to comb through his hair. At first he froze, unused to such physical attention. Hugs were one thing but to have someone that close to his head where they could inflict bodily harm, he just couldn't stop himself from flinching from her initial touch.

"It's alright Harry," Daphne said to reassure him, having felt as well as seen him flinch from her touch. "I promise I won't do anything else."

Harry nodded slightly in acceptance and fought within himself to keep from pulling away. After the first few minutes he slowly began to relax under her ministrations. The gentle trail of her nails across his scalp was rather soothing. He found that he rather enjoyed having his hair played with in this fashion. _I wonder if my mother would have done the same for me when I felt ill?_

"Did you get things sorted with Hermione?" Daphne asked after some time and upon seeing that the boy in her lap had relaxed considerably.

"I believe so," he responded with in a contented tone. "It was just a bit of a misunderstanding was all. She asked me to meet a few of her housemates."

"Anything Tracey and I need to be aware of?" Daphne asked, not wishing to intrude upon their privacy but curious none the less.

"I don't believe so," Harry said thoughtfully as if honestly considering her words. "I think it is her choice to tell you or not though so I can't really say anything."

The two remained silent for a long time as she continued to massage his head and generally play with his unruly strands. Sometimes she would use her other hand and other times she'd use both. Every so often she could see his body stiffen as a particularly painful tremor went through him his frame.

"Daphne?" Harry asked in a tired voice.

"Hm?" the witch, who truth be told had been nodding off herself, replied softly.

"I'm glad you're my friend," the prone boy said using his hand that was tucked under her leg, which was acting as his pillow, a gently squeeze of gratitude.

"Me too," Daphne replied with a happy smile. "Me too, Harry," she repeated as she ran her fingers through his unruly locks.

"Can I get you to do this every time I'm in here?" the dark-haired boy asked.

Daphne chuckled softly before replying. "Don't push your luck, Potter!"


	12. Nicholas Flamel

"Harry? Harry? Earth to Harry," Tracey Davis said as loud as one dared while within the domain of Madam Pince, all the while waving a hand before the boy's vacant expression. The librarian was well known for not taking kindly to those that couldn't keep their voices down to the barest of whispers while within the confines of the library of Hogwarts. "Harry Potter!" the exasperated auburn haired girl finally snapped loudly, startling the young wizard as well as several other students at the nearby tables who looked over curiously before returning to whatever work had brought them to the library in the first place.

Harry blinked once owlishly as he finally focused on the girl seated across the table from him. They had both come to the library after the evening meal to work on the scroll that Professor Snape had assigned earlier that day in potions class. "I'm sorry Tracey, what was the question again?" Harry asked in a slightly distracted, yet apologetic voice as he attempted to return his attention to his friend.

"Whatever were you thinking about so intently? I called your name several times before you even heard me," Tracey replied with, in an even tone, neither condemning nor complaining about his actions. If anything her tone held a certain note of concern not lost upon the dark haired boy. "It must be infinitely more entertaining than this essay we're working on," the auburn haired witch added dryly.

"Nothing of import," Harry quickly replied, not wishing to bother the girl. Truth be told there had been a number of things which had happened that day which struck him as odd. Try as he might he just couldn't get them off his mind. A life time of handling his own problems was not overcome with only a few days of friendship after all. Seeing the skeptical look from Tracey, Harry forced a smile on his face. "Really Tracey, it's nothing."

The first year witch regarded her newest friend for a long moment before replying, "Then it shouldn't be that big of a deal to tell me then should it?" she replied with, a victorious smile upon her youthful features upon having managed to have cornered him into telling her.

Harry saw that she wasn't going to be put off so easily. _Maybe friends share their problems_ , he idly speculated to himself. The young wizard was still new to having friends and hence was still learning exactly what it meant to have them as well as to be one. "Well," he began with, licking his lips once to moisten them before continuing, "remember how I believed it was Professor Dumbledore that gifted me with the broom?" Seeing the witch with him nod he continued, "Well, I'm not so certain anymore," he shared with her.

"But I thought you said he gave you a nod when you received it?" Tracey asked, wondering where the gifted broom was currently. _Zabini was not in class at all today_ , she recalled to herself, certain there would be a detention, if not several, waiting for the dark skinned wizard due to his absences when he finally turned up.

Harry quickly nodded in agreement to her words. "He did, but do you remember the fuss that Professor Snape made at the start of class this morning?" he asked as his eyes took on that unfocused look that people get when they are recalling some particular event they had witnessed.

Tracey snorted humorlessly at his question, vexed with how their Head of House always seemed to single out the dark-haired boy. "You mean where he accused you of needing all the help you could get and then instructed you to " _use it well_ '," she added in a bad impersonation of the potions professor. "He sure seems to like to focus his attention on you for some reason, Harry."

The Professor's words had been more along the lines of ' _A surprising gift, Potter. One you'll no doubt need. I suggest you use it well_ ' but he was wise enough not to correct the seemingly irate witch. Harry reached for his backpack and pulled out a small card and passed it to her. "This was with the broom when I received it."

Tracey took the small card and looked at. Neatly written upon it were the words _Use It Well_. "So because of this you think Snape bought the broom for you?" she asked in a slightly disbelieving tone of voice as she handed the card back to him.

Harry shrugged as he accepted the card and returned it to his backpack. "He is the one that put me on the team as Seeker in the first place," Harry said in an attempt to lend credit to his belief.

"It is unusual for a first year student to have a broom and would require the Headmaster's permission," Tracey said thinking aloud as she mulled over his words.

"Professor Snape could easily ask him for permission," Harry added to her thoughts. "As Slytherin Head of House it would be in his best interest to have his team as well prepared as possible, I should think. As I've only just started to fly, I would truly need all the help I could get," he added, echoing the professor's words from earlier that morning."

Tracey didn't look too convinced though. "Harry, we're talking about a Nimbus 2000 here! It's not something just anyone can go run out and buy." Seeing the confused look on his face she tried to explain, "That broom probably cost more than Professor Snape makes in an entire year teaching here, Harry!"

"Oh," Harry said in a shocked voice at her words. He had no clue how much a broom cost, never having bought one before. "Where did you say Daphne was?" he asked, changing the subject as he felt a bit stupid for not having realized that something that highly prized would not be cheap.

Tracey smirked as she replied, "She received a letter this morning from her sister but didn't have a chance to read it so she's in the girl's dormitory doing so now." Tracey's smirked turned into a warm smile. "It's scary how close the two of them are."

"What about you?" Harry enquired. The young wizard realized that he'd never actually had a chance to speak with Tracey when it was just the two of them before. "Any brothers or sisters?"

Tracey shook her head, "Nope. Only child, just like you Harry," she replied as she dipped her quill and went back to work on her essay, clearly finished with the topic.

Harry watched the young witch for several long moments, the soft scratching of her quill the only sound between them. "Do you miss your parents?" he finally asked tentatively, uncertain if he was perhaps prying into her personal life. The young wizard missed his own parents even though he had no memory of them. He couldn't help but wonder what they looked like or how they smiled as well as any number of other facts. _There's so much I will never know about them_ , he thought to himself.

"No, not really," Tracey replied without bothering to look up from the scroll in front of her.

"What?" Harry gasped in disbelief.

Tracey looked up at him for a moment before allowing a soft little sigh to escape her lips. Setting her quill down to the side so it wouldn't drip and mess up her report she gathered her thoughts for a moment before reply. "I guess I might as well tell you, Harry. When the last war with You-Know-Who," she paused slightly.

"You mean Voldemort?" Harry asked to clarify.

The young witch tried to suppress the shiver that ran down her spine upon hearing him speak the Dark Lord's name and simply nodded once before continuing. "When things started to get dark and families disappeared in the middle of the night, my parents fled England for America. I wasn't born yet, though Mom was pregnant with me at the time. After I was born Dad got a position within the Magical Investigation Bureau and Mom started teaching at SIM, Salem Institute of Magic. Once the war ended they felt that I should be brought up as a proper English woman and so they sent me to England to live with an older aunt of mine whom I had never met before."

"When was that?" Harry asked, suspecting there was more to the story.

"That was six years ago," Tracey replied matter-of-factly as if it was no big deal. "I haven't seen either of them since as their work keeps them far too busy to come and visit apparently." The auburn haired witch couldn't keep the hurt tone from her voice even though she tried to. _Even after all this time I can't believe that it still hurts this much_ , she thought to herself as her heart ached. She could well recall the nights she had spent crying alone or in Daphne's arms, feeling abandoned and unwanted.

Something in the girl's voice resonated with the longing he felt in his heart for his own parents. It wasn't something he could explain as it was more instinctual than anything else. Before he knew what he was doing Harry reached out and took Tracey's hand in his, giving a small squeeze. "At least you can write to them," he offered in an attempt to have her see that things weren't all that bad. The young wizard would have given anything for a single letter from his parents.

Tracey just smirked, though there was no humor in it. "I did at first but the replies were few and far between," she told him. "After a couple of years I just gave up on it," she added with a small shrug of her shoulders. "Daphne's mother and father have been more parents to me than my own. They are the family I think of whenever someone asks how my family is doing," she told him.

Harry smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "I'm glad you have Daphne for a friend then, Tracey."

"I have you and Granger now as well," Tracey said with a bright smile while giving the hand in hers a gentle reassuring squeeze. "Don't forget that! Speaking of the Gryff, do you know where she is? It's not like her to miss a chance to study."

Harry shook his head slightly. "I thought she would meet us here. Maybe she got a letter as well," he offered as a suggestion for Hermione's absence.

"Maybe," Tracey stated a bit doubtful but unable to argue the possibility. "What about you Harry? I thought I saw you receive mail as well this morning?"

Harry dropped his head, the smile disappearing from his face as he removed his hand from hers. "We better get to work on these reports or we'll never get them finished," he said as he reached for his quill lying on the table next to him.

Tracey knew instantly that something was wrong. Reaching out she ensnared the wizard's hand that was reaching for the quill. "Harry?" she said questioning him with just his name alone. When there was no immediate answer forthcoming she prodded gently, "What happened?"

Instead of replying the boy reluctantly reached into his robes and pulled out a folder piece of parchment which he then passed to her. Written in pen on the outside of the letter were the words ' _Return to sender. Unwanted mail_ '. "Oh, Harry," Tracey gasped as her hand flew to her mouth in disbelief, her heart going out to her friend.

"It's alright," Harry offered with a slight shrug, unable to raise his head and meet her eyes due to being embarrassed by the actions of his relatives. "I shouldn't have expected anything different," he told her. "My aunt and uncle are non-magical and have a rather strong dislike for anything magical," he added, feeling the need to explain.

"Anything?" Tracey asked with a slightly arched brow wondering if that meant him as well.

"Anything," Harry confirmed still staring at the blank parchment on the table in front of him. Reaching out he retrieved the folded paper returned unopened by the Dursleys and slipped it back into one of the many pockets inside his robes.

Uncertain just how to respond to that, Tracey sat there and just stared at Harry as he picked up his quill, dipped it in the inkwell, and started working on his essay. After a few moments she followed suit and returned to working on hers, not knowing just what to say at the moment that would comfort him. The next hour passed with little more sound between them than the soft scratching of quill on parchment.

"Tracey," Harry said, finally breaking the silence between them. The young witch looked up only to see the wizard chewing thoughtfully upon the end of his quill. "Have you ever heard the name Nicolas Flamel before?"

The Slytherin witch thought for a moment before shaking her head. "No, should I have?"

"I don't know," Harry said thoughtfully. Reaching into his backpack he pulled out a copy of The Daily Prophet and passed it to her.

Tracey looked down at the front page article and recalled reading it before. "The Gringott's break-in?" she asked questioningly as she looked up at the boy across from her.

Harry nodded once sharply. "Before school started Hagrid took me to Gringotts so I could get some galleons from my vault to buy school supplies and what not," he told her. "While we were there we stopped at that vault and Hagrid removed something from it," Harry said pointing to the vault in the picture on the front cover.

"What was it?" Tracey asked, curious as to what it could be.

"I don't know," Harry confessed. "I didn't get a good look at it but it easily fit within the palm of his hand and it was the only item in the vault."

"Did you ask Hagrid what it was?" Tracey enquired, now wanting to know more than ever.

Harry shook his head slightly. "Not at the time as I didn't give it much thought however, after seeing that article I went today at lunch time and asked him about it," the young wizard told her before pausing.

"And?" Tracey pried impatiently.

"He said it was Hogwarts business," Harry replied with a small shrug. "Hagrid told me that whatever it was, it was between Nicolas Flamel and Professor Dumbledore." Harry's lips curled up into a small smile as he added, "Of course directly after saying that he said ' _Shouldn't ought to have told ya that!_ ' and then he wouldn't say anything further on the subject."

"So whoever broke into Gringotts was after whatever Hagrid removed," the bright witch reasoned aloud, "and this Nicolas Flamel is involved with it in some manner." Tracey saw Harry nod in agreement with her assessment of the situation. "Well, maybe we can find something about this Flamel person here in the library?"

"Do you think so?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"It stands to reason, Harry," she attempted to explain. "If he is associated with the Headmaster then he must be someone of importance. If he is someone of importance then there is a good chance that he'll be in some of the books here in the library."

"I suppose so," Harry replied with, unable to find fault with her reasoning and not having any other suggestions himself.

"Maybe we should just ask Madam Pince?" Tracey offered thoughtfully.

"No!" Harry quickly declared upon hearing her words, startling the witch as well as earning curious glances from those near at hand. "If it truly is Hogwarts business than it could get back to the Headmaster that we asked about him," he explained the reason for his objection to asking the head librarian, making certain he kept is voice low so only Tracey could hear him. "I'm not certain he would take kindly to us doing that, especially when I'm not even certain we should be doing it. Perhaps it would be better if we just stay out of whatever business it is?"

"But Harry," the witch across from him exclaimed, starting to get excited. "You were already brought into whatever business it was when Hagrid took you to that vault," she said with a gesture towards the picture on the front of the paper. "What if whoever broke into Gringotts comes and looks for you to discover what was in the vault? You could be in danger!"

Harry couldn't stop the shiver of trepidation that ran down his spine at her words. The young wizard just wanted to have a quiet life and enjoy his new friends and school. _It's not bad enough that I have to be The-Boy-Who-Lived but now I have to keep looking over my shoulder for someone who might be after me!_ "Do you really think they would do that?" Harry asked her.

Tracey shrugged uncertainly. "I don't know, Harry. I've never tried to steal anything before. Whatever it is I should think it is very important for whoever it was to risk breaking into Gringotts." Seeing the puzzled expression on the young wizards face she explained. "The Goblins are trusted with the Wizarding World's finances and they take their work very seriously. Those caught trying to cheat the Goblins are usually imprisoned. I can only imagine that someone caught breaking into their bank would face a far worse fate. Possibly even death," she told him with a slightly sickened expression upon her face.

Harry visible paled at her words. Having only seen the Goblins on his one trip to Gringotts he could well believe her. The time he had been there he had half expected to see them waving battle axes and Lucerne hammers, waging war right there in the bank lobby. Even with the fact that they all wore suits it did not take away from their image of a warrior race, built and bred for fighting.

"Nothing to be done about it now, potion's done out of the vial as they say," Tracey quickly added upon seeing Harry turn pale. "I'll help you look and I'm sure the others will as well. Besides, this is the safest place in England," Tracey added in an attempt to cheer up her friend. "Perhaps whatever it is Hagrid was bringing it to Hogwarts to keep it safe. No one would ever dare try to sneak into Hogwarts."

"I'm sure that's what they thought of Gringotts too," Harry mumbled softly under his breath to himself. "Speaking of the others, you haven't seen Blaise have you? I would like to use my new broom for Quidditch practice in the morning."

"H…haven't seen him all day," Tracey replied truthfully as she hastily took up her quill and started back to work on her essay. _He had better have fixed Harry's broom_ , she silently thought as she glared at the parchment before her.

**-oOo-**

_I HATE YOU!_

Daphne read once again the first words of the letter she had received from her sister, Astoria, and gave a sad soft sigh. When she had awakened that morning, there had been a note upon her nightstand. How it had gotten there she wasn't sure but she suspected that Astoria had convinced one of the Greengrass house elves to bring it for her.

_Daphne,_

_I HATE YOU! I fear that I must now think of myself as an only child for no sister of mine would steal my Harry away from me. I never want to see you again!_

_Astoria  
(The only Greengrass daughter)_

Daphne couldn't help but feel for her younger sister. Almost as soon as Astoria could talk she had said that one day she would marry Harry Potter. Over the years she had collected every single story book concerning The-Boy-Who-Lived. At first the Greengrass parents thought that like any passing fancy, their youngest would simply grow out of it, yet that was not to be the case. If anything the small girl's obsession only deepened with time. In the young girl's eyes, Harry could do no wrong. This was not apparently the case with herself as far as Astoria was concerned judging by that morning's note.

_The fact that Astoria actually called me Daphne shows just how upset she is_ , the blonde witch thought to herself. It was very seldom that the two of them used their given names with each other, preferring pet names instead. There was a deep love between the sisters, which is why Daphne knew that Astoria didn't really hate her. The letter that had arrived with the morning post was clear indication of that. Still, it had taken the entire day for the blonde witch to gather her resolve to open the new missive, fearful that it might contain additional hurtful words from her sister. Breaking the seal on the message the first thing she noticed were the obvious tear stains on the parchment.

_My Dearest Sissy,_

_I hope that after my last missive I can still call you that? Can I? Oh please say that I can! I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to speak to me again. I can not begin to tell you just how sorry I am or how miserable I feel right now. I know my words hurt you, something I would truly never wish to do. I allowed my temper to get the better of me. I honestly do not know what I would do without you in my life. I can only hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, Sissy. I will anxiously await your reply while understanding should one never arrive._

_Your loving, and slightly insane, little sister,_

_Astoria_

"She's such a silly girl," Daphne mumbled with a soft smile as she held the letter to her chest lovingly and brushed a tear from her eye. Relief flowed through her entire body and it was as if a heavy weight she had been carrying about all that day was suddenly lifted from her shoulders. Realizing that Astoria would no doubt worry herself sick till she received a reply, the blonde Slytherin quickly reached for quill and parchment.

_My Sweet,_

_How could you ever think that I would not want you as my adorable little sister? You are as much a part of me as the very heart which beats in my chest, my Sweet, for as much as I can not live without it so to could I not live without you in my life._

_I know full well not to come between you and_ your _Harry. I would no more fancy him than any boy that did not meet your approval. Not that Harry wouldn't meet with your approval, my Sweet! Quite the contrary I should think. He is nothing like the books, though, so you had best prepare yourself. Harry and I are nothing more than friends, I promise you. Knowing your heart is already set upon him I dare say that he and I shall not be anything more than friends save perhaps brother in-law and sister in-law once you're married. Now rest and try not to worry Mother and Father._

_Your loving Sissy,_

_Daphne_

The young Slytherin witch couldn't help but smile as she rolled up the parchment once the ink had dried. "Honestly, how could she think that I would try to take Harry from her? I've only just met the boy and I hardly even know him," she said aloud to herself with an amused shake of her head as she gathered her books into her bag and tossed it over her shoulder as she made her way from the girl's dormitory, setting off towards the Owlery. In short order, and with the help of a school owl, her missive was on its way. "I hope she'll be alright," Daphne spoke aloud as she watched the owl wing its way off into the gathering darkness.

"Come out here often to speak to yourself, Greengrass," drawled the last voice she wanted to hear at that moment.

Turning about Daphne regarded the Malfoy scion for a long moment before replying. "Sometimes it seems to be the only way to avoid certain…unpleasantries," she told him dryly.

"Yes, I know what you mean," he replied as he stepped past her and to a school owl. "There are far too many mudbloods and half-bloods here," he said, mistaking her meaning completely. As he spoke he tied a scroll to the owl's leg. "It is a sorry state Hogwarts has fallen into when Purebloods such as ourselves have to retreat to the Owlery to get a bit of _fresh_ air!"

_How does he always manage to find me?_ "It would seem that there is no place one can go to get away from the taint here," she replied with a pointed look at the boy to show that she spoke of him.

"Yes, well now that Father is on the school board I am certain that he will take steps to remove some of the less desirables from this sorry excuse of a school," Draco said with a sneer as he sent the owl upon its way. Once again he missed the meaning of her words. "Just this morning I received a letter from him in which he asked me to keep an eye on the students here," he told her pompously, puffing out his chest slightly. "Father knows he can rely on my good judgment." Upon hearing the blonde Slytherin's snort of laughter he quickly added, "Perhaps that is a fact you'd do well to keep in mind, Greengrass!"

The young witch ignored the implied threat, realizing it was nothing more than bluster from the arrogant boy before her. "Well, as much as I would like to stay and chat I fear I am overdue in the Library," she stated to change the subject and afford her a reason to leave. "Can't allow Granger to get ahead of me and win all the points for Gryffindor, now can I?" she asked upon seeing him gathering for an objection to her leaving.

"If it weren't for that filthy mudblood they would hardly have any points at all," Draco said vehemently, clearly displeased with the smart witch with bushy hair. "If I weren't so terribly busy with what my father has entrusted to me, I would help you in gathering points for our House."

Daphne had to bite back a snarl at his use of the term mudblood when referring to Hermione however, she knew now was not the time to get into that particular argument. "Yes, I'm sure you would," she replied with thinly veiled sarcasm. When the Slytherin wizard offered to escort her back to the castle there was little she could do about it but accept. The entire way she had to listen to him ramble on about how much his father trusted and relied on him and how it was natural as he was a great wizard and all. They parted ways at the grande stairway and none too soon for Daphne's liking.

**-oOo-**

"Rough day?" Harry asked concernedly as Daphne dropped into the seat across from him with a tired sigh.

"I ran into Malfoy out in the Owlery," she told him, only to notice the boy's expression darken. "He was being his usual self...a prat."

"Are you alright?" Harry enquired, his dislike for the arrogant fellow first year Slytherin growing greater with each passing day.

Tracy looked up from the book she was thumbing through. "The little git didn't try anything did he?" she asked recalling the several times Draco had attempted to get the blonde witch's attention.

Daphne raised a hand and waved away their concerns. "No, he was just being an annoying prat. Now that his father is on the School Board of Directors he has even more reason to strut around like a prized peacock."

"I wonder how Malfoy Sr. managed that," Tracey voiced. "I thought the Board members could only be appointed by the Minster for Magic?"

"Same way he and most purebloods do everything else, money," Daphne quipped as she looked about at the stack of books spread all about the table. "Whatever are you two doing?" she asked inquisitively.

"Reading," Harry said with a teasing grin.

"Prat!" Daphne laughed. "No seriously. None of these books have anything to do with any of our classes," she said having glanced as several book titles.

"Daphne, do you know a wizard by the name of Nicholas Flamel?" Tracey asked, only to see the witch shake her head. "I didn't think you would have," Tracey added having come to the belief that if she didn't know the name then it was just as likely that Daphne wouldn't as well.

"What's so important about this Flamel person?" Daphne asked.

"That is exactly what we're trying to figure out," Tracey told her as she closed the book she had before her, setting it atop a pile near at hand only to pick up the top book from a different pile. "Harry believes that whoever broke into Gringotts was after something that belonged to Flamel," Tracey explained upon seeing the puzzled expression on her friend's face.

"Well, it is just a theory," Harry offered, quickly dropping his eyes to the book before him upon seeing Daphne staring at him intently. The dark-haired wizard quickly related his conversation with Hagrid that day at lunch as well as the significance of the vault that was broken into. "Tracey thought that if the person knew the Headmaster then they must be famous or well known in some way."

Daphne nodded, seeing the logic in their thinking however, she couldn't understand why they were going about this in such a manner. "Why not simply ask Madam Pince who Nicholas Flamel is?"

Harry shook his head and gave Daphne the same answer he had given to Tracey earlier. "If it is Hogwarts business then it could get back to the Headmaster and he might not take kindly to me butting in where I perhaps shouldn't."

The blonde witch thought over his words for a few minutes before correcting him. "Us."

"Huh?" Harry questioned looking up at Daphne with a slightly confused expression.

"You're wrong," she explained as she reached for the next book upon the same stack that Tracey had taken a new book from. "He may not take kindly to _us_ butting in," she elaborated to clarify her correction.

Harry quickly shook his head. "If this is Hogwarts business then I do not want you guys getting involved," Harry said earnestly. "I shouldn't even be letting Tracey help me research whoever Flamel is!"

"I'm helping too!" Daphne declared defiantly. Seeing the wizard about to argue she quickly continued. "If you think you're going to do this all by yourself you had best just forget that notion, Potter" she told him matter-of-factly.

Harry paused and blinked slowly, uncertain just what to do with the irate witch before him or her refusal to not get involved. "Daphne, I don't want Tracey or you to get into any trouble due to me." Having no idea just what he was getting himself into, he did not want his new friends to be involved. Tracey was only helping him to do the research at the moment and even with that he felt guilty about letting her do it.

"Harry," Daphne replied gently upon hearing the note of concern in his voice, "what about you? What if whoever broke into Gringotts decided that you have what they were after and comes to get it from you? I'm sure any number of people saw you there with Hagrid that day," she reasoned. "He is rather hard to miss. The thief no doubt already knows this I'll wager."

"That's what I told him," Tracey added softly having sat and listened to their exchange. "Harry you can't do this on your own. Let us help you, Harry," the auburn haired witch at his side pleaded. "That's what friends are for, they help each other."

Harry felt trapped, his emerald eyes darted back and forth between Tracey's soft brown eyes and Daphne's brilliant blue ones. He could see the same longing and desire to help him in both pair of eyes that watched him expectantly. _We've only been friends for a couple of days. Why would they want to go out of their way for me?_ The first year wizard recalled how his classmate before had apparently gone out of his way to be friends with him only to lead him to the park for Dudley to pommel him.

_No, this is not primary school_ , he reminded himself forcibly. _They certainly are not friends of Dudley either!_ His nature was to do things on his own. It was safer to rely on his own abilities, meager though they were, rather than depending on others who might betray him. _If all they are doing is helping me track down who Nicholas Flamel is then there is little chance they'll get into trouble_ , he finally reasoned.

"Alright, you both can help me find out who Flamel is," he told them, instantly bringing big smiles to both witches faces. "But that's all," he added so that they clearly understood. He wasn't certain what he would do once he had the desired information. _I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it_. "Don't tell Hermione about this though," Harry told them, not wishing to add the possibility of her getting into trouble as well.

"Don't tell me what?" Hermione asked as she dropped her backpack onto the table before collapsing into the vacant chair next to Daphne.

"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said _nothing_?" Harry asked with a weak smile.

"Too late for that, Harry," Hermione replied as she leaned her head back, closed her eyes and took a beep calming breath which had the other three present glancing towards each other, concerned for their friend's wellbeing.

"You alright there, Granger?" Daphne asked, reaching out and laying a hand upon the witch's forearm. The blonde Slytherin was more than a little concerned with how pale the girl next to her was.

"No. I most certainly am not," Hermione replied without even opening her eyes. "I can't believe they would have one of those here," she mumbled to herself. "This is a school for Merlin's sake!"

"One of what?" Tracey enquired hesitantly.

Hermione's head shot up as her eyes popped open so that she could regard the auburn-haired witch seated across from her. "A Cerberus!" she said incredulously, causing the other three to gasp in disbelief.

"Are you certain, Hermione?" Harry asked.

The Gryff nodded at his words. "I overheard the twins talking about it," she began to explain.

"The Weasley twins are nothing but pranksters, Granger," Tracey interjected with a humorous snort. "They were just probably telling a tale to get one over on the firsties present," she offered.

"No, it's true!" Hermione declared upon seeing the witch's skeptical look.

"Wait," Harry quickly interceded. "Tell us what happened, Hermione," he suggested.

**-oOo-**

Hermione read over the letter she had received from her Mum and couldn't help but smile. Her Mum had informed her that her father had asked if he should be concerned that half the letter from her had been about some boy named Harry. ' _Don't worry. I assured your father that you were far too young to be concerned with boys'_ , her mother had written. Of course that had quickly been followed by, ' _So is Harry cute?'_ , causing the young witch to roll her eyes.

"Is he?" she asked herself softly as she chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. An image of a pair of bright emerald eyes and messy black hair flashed into her brain. More than once since becoming friends with the young wizard she had wanted to place him in a full body bind and try to straighten out his dark locks into some semblance of order. The only thing preventing her from doing so was that she did not know the spell as yet.

Her thoughts quickly led her to recall how Harry had attempted to push her away to keep her out of harm's way, namely himself. These thoughts almost instantly brought a warm sensation to her chest that she was quickly coming to equate to the wizard of her thoughts.

_I don't know about cute Mom_ , she thought to herself, _but he is very thoughtful and terribly sweet_. The young witch felt her cheeks grow warm as she recalled the events that had transpired in the Astronomy tower as well as in the hallway leading to the Hospital wing of Hogwarts. _I couldn't ask for a better friend than Harry!_

"I tell you it's true!" the raised voice of one of the Weasley twins exclaimed from close at hand, breaking the young witch from her thoughts. "It's there clear as day!"

The first year witch looked over only to see the Weasley twins conversing with their younger brother Ronald. As she had as yet been able to tell with any degree of accuracy which twin was which she wasn't exactly sure who had been speaking.

"You're just having a go at me," Ronald Weasley stated in a knowing manner having been the butt of many of the twin's pranks growing up. "There is probably nothing there. You're just doing this so that you can get me caught and in trouble so I'll have to do detention!"

"While that does in fact sound like something we would do, little brother," one of the twins said, the other adding a grin of agreement with the assessment, "we're not trying to have a go at you, truly we're not."

Both twins could clearly see the skeptical look upon the younger boys face. "It was there, bold as brass," the other twin offered.

"If it was there then what was it?" Ron asked challengingly of his brothers.

"It was a…well, I don't know what it is called," the first twin replied, "but it is there, a dog with three heads. Bold as brass!"

"Cerberus," Hermione offered before she even realized it, only to see three blank expression turn in her direction. "That's what they're called," she added nervously, "Cerberus. They guard the gates to the Underworld it is said."

"A right smart one, that she is, Freddie," George stated with a growing smile.

"She must be the bright witch we've been hearing about, Georgie," Fred replied with a matching growing grin.

"The one earning us all those points, that she has, brother mine," George added, picking up where his brother left off at with apparent ease.

Hermione blushed deeply at the unexpected praise. "H…hello," the young witch stammered. "Hermione Granger," she offered in way of introduction.

"Pardon our little brother's lack of manners and not properly introducing us," Fred said with a good natured grin.

"Mom's been trying to break him of his atrocious behavior, that she has," George added with a shake of his head which Fred quickly moved to do as well.

Hermione watched as the twin's heads bobbed back and forth in opposite time of each other's and couldn't help but grin at their antics.

"I'm George," Fred stated, "and this handsome fellow is Fred."

"That I am," George agreed with a roguish grin before offering, "I'm the better looking twin of course."

"Which makes me the best looking twin, no doubt," Fred added with a matching smile.

"Are you two always this incorrigible?" Hermione asked with a chuckle.

"No," Fred quipped innocently. "You should see us-"

"-on a good day," George completed his twins sentence as if it was the most normal of things to do. "That you should young Miss."

Ron huffed, annoyed at being left out of the conversation entirely.

"Now, you were saying?" both twins said in unison.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but over hear what you were talking about," Hermione offered in way of apology. "Did you really see one?" Both the twin nodded at her question. "I would hate to point out just how unlikely that is."

"See, I told you that you couldn't have seen one!" Ron barked, finally having a chance to say something. The fact that it just proved that his brothers were having yet another go at him just made it all the better as far as the young redhead was concerned.

"I said unlikely, Ronald. Not impossible," Hermione said to clarify her previous statement. Her words only earned her a scowl from her classmate.

"What can you tell of these, Cerberus?" Fred asked, ignoring Ron's previous outburst.

Hermione gathered her thoughts and licked her dry lips before falling into what her housemates were quickly coming to call 'lecture mode'. "Cerberus was the offspring of Echidna, a hybrid half-woman and half-serpent, and Typhon, a gigantic monster even the Greek gods supposedly feared. Its siblings are the Lernaean Hydra; Orthus, a two-headed hellhound; and the Chimaera, a three-headed monster."

"The common depiction of Cerberus in Greek mythology and art is as having three heads. In most works, the three heads each respectively see and represent the past, the present, and the future, while other sources suggest the heads represent birth, youth, and old age. Each of Cerberus' heads is said to have an appetite only for live meat and thus allow only the spirits of the dead to freely enter the underworld, but allow none to leave. Cerberus were always employed as Hades' loyal watchdog, and guarded the gates that granted access and exit to the underworld."

Hermione finished with what she could recall of the Cerberus only to see Ron's glazed vacant expression. In contrast the twins seemed to be raptly hanging upon her each and every word. "This is all of course assuming you believe Greek mythology and that the Underworld truly exists."

"A right bright witch this one is," George offered with a low whistle of appreciation. "You should come work with us. We can always use another smart mind. That we can," he added with a slight nod.

"Oi!" Fred exclaimed, nudging Ron's shoulder to get his attention. "Why can't you be more like Hermione here, little brother?" Ron's expression turned sullen and disgruntled though he wisely refrained from saying anything. Both twins turned to look at each other for a long moment as if silently communicating. "It's settled," Fred finally announced.

"That it is, brother mine," George added with a large grin as he placed his arm around his twin's shoulder.

"You'll have to come with us so we can verify what it is," they told the stunned witch in unison.

_How did I get myself into this?_ , Hermione asked herself not for the first time since the four of them had left the Gryffindor tower and made their way to the third floor. As they started down the right hand hallway the Headmaster's words rang within the young witch's head once again. ' _Lastly, for this year the third floor corridor on the right is off limits to anyone who does not want to die a most gruesome death_.'

"Why am I here," Ron whined as his brothers, each with a hand fisted into the shoulder of his robes so he couldn't escape, dragged him along.

"It wouldn't do for you to think you were right, little brother," George told him.

"Wouldn't do at all," Fred agreed. "Better to have you there to see with your own eyes."

George winked at his twin upon seeing the scared look upon Ron's face. "I wouldn't worry overly much, little brother," he offered, only to receive a quizzical look from the youngest Weasley.

"You're small," Fred chimed in, picking up where George had left off. "Shouldn't be more than a bite or two," he added, causing Ron to pale significantly.

"I imagine it shouldn't hurt too much once you're swallowed and all," George stated in the same inconsequential tone one would use when conversing about the weather.

"Maybe you'll get lucky and it will bite your head off and gnaw on it for a bit," Fred offered helpfully. "Least that way you'll be dead before it starts to digest you."

"Can't say I'd want to be alive when that starts," George commented with as he made a sour face.

Ron's eyes had grown to the size of teacup saucers while his complexion was near that of one of the sheets in the hospital ward. The young wizard tried in vain to plant his feet and not move another step forward but this only caused the twins to grasp him under each arm and lift him up till he feet couldn't touch the ground.

"Good thing you have us here-," Fred started with.

"-to look after you and all," George said to complete the thought.

Hermione, who had witnessed the wink exchanged between the twins could no longer hold in her giggles and doubled over in laughter at the twin's actions. It was all she could do to hold onto her backpack which she had brought with her, intending to go to the library afterwards. Noticing that Ron's face had gone a bright red all the way up to the tips of his ears, the witch quickly collected herself and brought her laughter under control. "They were just having a go at you is all, Ronald," she offered, hoping he would see it for the good natured pranking that it was.

"It's not funny!" Ron snapped, embarrassed at being made fun of in front of one of his classmates. The twins just grinned and continued to chuckle at their own cleverness. "We'll see who's laughing," the angry boy spat out, "when I owl Mom about this!" he threatened.

The smiles and laughter instantly disappeared from both his brother's faces. "That would be unwise, little brother," Fred replied.

"Unwise indeed," George agreed. "Unless you want to be the tester for _all_ our products!" The threat was apparently severe enough to make the youngest Weasley present pale once more and shake his head that he wouldn't tell. "Smart lad," George added upon seeing his brother's reaction.

"Perhaps hanging around Hermione here is rubbing off after all," quipped Fred.

The four of them halted before the second to last door at the end of the hallway. "Just a quick look," George warned as Fred drew his wand to defend them should the need arise. " _Alohomora_!" George said, casting the spell to unlock the door.

The door had barely opened a few inches when something heavy struck it nearly knocking the twins off their feet. The force of the blow would have surely done so had they not been expecting it, still they barely managed to stay standing. Instinctually all four students lunged for the door and pushed against it in an attempt to force it closed. Once again the door was struck, driving them back a foot as something large and slobbering barked, growled and tried to force its way out of the room. With a final heave they managed to get the door closed and the latch fastened once again. The door was struck several more times causing it and the lock to shudder under the force of the attack. All four students cautiously backed away from the door.

"W…wh...what was that thing?" Ron asked with a great deal of stuttering.

"Cerberus," Hermione answered in disbelief, having gotten a good look at it, never taking her eyes from the door. The young witch was certain that she would be having nightmares of large gnawing teeth for the next several nights.

"We better go," Fred suggested, "in case someone comes to see what all the noise was about." The others nodded in agreement and quickly began to retrace their steps down the hallway.

"I wonder if we can put it to sleep?" George mused aloud to his twin as they walked along. The two of them already brainstorming on how to get past the creature.

"With the right sleep spell or potion anything is possible, brother mine," Fred replied with a smile.

"I doubt that will work in this case," Hermione told them, regretting having to burst their bubble. "Cerberus are believed to be incredibly resistant to magic. They would have to be if they were to guard the entrance to the Underworld."

"Assuming that the Underworld truly exists," Ron quipped in a condescending tone, certain that there could be no such place.

"I didn't think a Cerberus existed till just a few moments ago," Hermione replied, to distracted to take offense at the boy tone of voice. The fact that several basic principles which she had grown up knowing were proving to be false, truly had the young witch shaken. _If there really are Cerberus then what else might there be? It was difficult enough to believe in magic. Could it be that the stories in Greek mythology are actually true? If they are then what of other cultures such as the Egyptian or Aztec_?

"I can't help but wonder why they have it in that room," Fred piped in with.

"Or how they got it in there in the first place," George was quick to add.

"I'm all for never seeing it again!" Ron said, stating his opinion.

"Don't go doing anything foolish," Hermione cautioned the twins who tried to look as innocent as possible. "I'm this way," she told them, pointing to the library hallway when they reached the Grande Stairway. Turning away after saying goodbye the young witch made her way to the library. _None of them must have seen the trap door it was standing over_ , she speculated to herself as she entered the library.

**-oOo-**

"Who would have thought they were real?" Tracey asked rhetorically after hearing Hermione's story.

"It can't be safe having that creature here," Hermione stated, pointing out what she thought was obvious and yet managed to escape the staff's notice apparently. "What if it somehow got out?" she asked with a slight tremor to her voice as she realized the amount of damage it could do. "What could be so important that they would risk having it here so close to the students?"

Tracey and Daphne quickly turned their gazes toward the only wizard present at the table. Both silently beseeching him to include Hermione in what they all three already knew. Harry's shoulders sagged after a few moments in what the others took as a clear sign of surrender.

Daphne pulled her gaze from Harry so that she could turn to look at Hermione. "That's exactly what we're trying to figure out," she told the shocked witch.

"You knew there was a Cerberus here guarding something?" Hermione sputtered in disbelief. "How?"

"No, not directly," Tracey replied with a shake of her head which set her auburn ponytail swaying back and forth. "It just makes sense is all."

"What makes sense?" Hermione enquired, becoming more and more confused with each passing moment.

"Hermione," Harry spoke up, calling the witch's attention to himself. "Does the name Nicholas Flamel mean anything to you?"

The Gryffindor witch's brow creased in thought for a moment before she gave a slight shake of her head. "No, should it? Is it something I'll need to add to the revision list for one of our classes?"

"Were it only so simple," Tracey quipped with a small grin.

"What?" the thoroughly confused witch next to Daphne asked in a bewildered tone.

"Harry was with Hagrid and visited Gringotts. The next day the very same vault was broken into," Daphne explained, coming to her newest friends rescue. "Harry saw Hagrid remove the only item from the vault that day. When he asked Hagrid about it earlier today he was told that it was Hogwarts business between the Headmaster and Nicholas Flamel."

Hermione sat for a moment processing the girl's words. Suddenly she gasped as the bright girl thought of something. "Harry! What if whoever broke into Gringotts comes after you thinking you have whatever it was Hagrid removed?" she asked, her eyes zeroing in on the wizard in concern for her friend's safety.

Tracey and Daphne turned at the same time and shot smug expressions at The-Boy-Who-Lived as if daring him to argue with the logic of all three witches there with him.

"Hogwarts is the safest place in England. No one could possibly sneak into here," Harry replied, hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt. Harry saw Hermione nod once, as did the others, accepting his words. Judging by the expressions on their faces though he was fairly certain that they were just as skeptical of that protection as he was.

"That must be what was under the trap door." Seeing their questioning looks Hermione quickly explained that she had seen one in the floor of the room the Cerberus was in. "It has to be guarding whatever Hagrid took from Gringotts." The others could do little more than nod in agreement with her speculation.

Hermione glanced about the table at the assortment of books as if just noticing them. "So you're trying to see if you can find this Nicholas Flamel here in the library?" she asked, receiving a nod from Harry. "If it is Hogwarts business then I guess we can't ask Madam Pince for assistance."

"My thoughts as well," Harry said agreeing with her assessment of the situation.

With a slight shrug, Hermione picked up a book and set it down before her. "I guess there's nothing else we can do but hope we can find out who he is."

The four of them quickly had their noses buried in books, flipping through the pages trying to find the elusive needle in the preverbal haystack. They had been at it for some time when a soft clearing of a throat interrupted them, causing all four to look up. The three witch's gazes quickly turned cold upon seeing who was standing there at the end of the table.

"Harry," Blaise Zabini said hesitantly, glancing at the others gathered and seeing their angry glares. _Judging by Granger's unforgiving look I guess I can assume they have told her as well_ , he absently thought to himself.

Harry, unaware of the tension, smiled broadly at seeing the other boy. "I've been looking for you all day. I was hoping to get my Nimbus from you so I can use it for practice in the morning."

"About that," the dark skinned boy began only to pause and lick his lips nervously. "I…I did just as you asked and took it out so that everyone could have a go at it."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement as that had been what he had said to do. "Did everything go alright? Did everyone get a chance to ride it?"

"Some more than others," Blaise replied, eliciting an angry snort from Tracey. "Look, I tried to do what you wanted but some of the older boys came and took it away from me. I tried to get it back but they just pushed me aside. One of them even put me in a body bind! Then Malfoy flew it into that bloody tree and Crabbe or Goyle flew it head first into a wall. I lost count of how many fell off of it because they couldn't handle the speed."

"I…I tried to get it back from them but I wasn't strong enough. Not with the higher years helping them," Blaise confessed in a near pleading tone. "The Nimbus got beat up pretty badly, Harry," he stated honestly, his eyes dropping to the floor. The young wizard felt ashamed of his action because once he had been freed and he once again had possession of the Nimbus he had acted like nothing had happened. The truth of the matter was he had been afraid. Afraid of the consequences of what might happen to him if he said anything to the professors. _I may be a wizard but I'm just a firstie._ He had been waiting for the right moment to slip away and hide the broom when Daphne and Tracey had arrived and confronted him.

"I had Madam Hooch show me how to fix it though. That's where I've been all day, working on it as best I could," Blaise said as he slowly brought the broom out from behind him. Madam Hooch had not only showed how to repair the broom and provided him with the proper tools to do so but she had also spent the entire time lecturing him on the proper care of other people's property as well. As the broom was a Nimbus 2000 it wasn't difficult for her to determine just who it belonged to.

Harry was quickly out of his seat and set the broom aside without even giving it a glance. Placing a hand on the distraught wizard's shoulder he asked, "Are you alright, Zabini? Sounds like you had it pretty rough there."

Zabini looked up in disbelief at Harry's words. He had fully expected the boy to yell and scream at him for what had happened. If he was honest with himself, were their positions reversed, he was fairly certain he would have pitched a wobbler and then some. Too shocked by the honest concern for his wellbeing that he heard in Harry's voice, he could do little more than nod in way of answer.

"I'm sorry, Zabini," Harry apologized. "I wasn't thinking and I put you in a difficult spot where you could have gotten hurt. It is my broom, I should have been the one there, not you. I hope you can forgive me," Harry asked contritely.

The three witches sat in stunned silence, watching the exchange. Tracey and Daphne both could tell that the Nimbus was in far better shape than it had been when last they saw it. Though they were still not happy with Zabini's apparent lack of caring when they had confronted him they could well see that he had did his best to repair the broom before returning it.

"No," Blaise replied with a slow deliberate shake of his head. "I'm the one that allowed your broom to be damaged. I owe you an apology, Harry. Not the other way around."

Harry gave a slight shrug of his thin shoulders. "It's just a broom," he said, seeing the three witches out of the corner of his eye, flinch at his words. "Brooms can be replaced but friends are much harder to come by," Harry offered sincerely.

"Friends?" Blaise parroted back softly before giving a curt nod of acceptance. "We alright then, Potter?" he asked extending his hand.

Harry dropped his hand from the boy's shoulder to accept the proffered hand and shook it twice. "I believe so, Zabini."

"Blaise," the dark skinned boy said with a welcoming smile. "My friends call me Blaise."

"Harry. Just Harry," The-Boy-Who-Lived replied with a genuine smile of his own.

"Harry," Blaise said as if getting a feel for the name of his newest friend. Glancing down he noticed the stacks of book for the first time. "Isn't it a bit soon to be doing revision sessions?"

Harry chuckled softly as he sat back down. "No, we're looking for any reference to Nicholas Flamel."

"The Alchemist?" Blaise asked curiously only to have four sets of eyes turn to stare at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You know of him?" Harry asked, trying to contain his own excitement at finally being able to find out who the man was.

Blaise nodded. "My Mom has dealing with him from time to time. When she was younger she apprenticed to him for several decades," he informed them. "Personally I think she was hoping he would teach her how to make a Philosopher's stone." Seeing their blank stares he continued to explain. "The Elixir of Life? Surely you've heard of it? The Flamel's are said to be well over six hundred years old. I can see where Harry and Granger may not have heard of it but I would have thought to two of you would have," he said incredulously as he looked towards Daphne and Tracey.

"First I've heard of it," Daphne replied with, glancing at Tracey only to see her nod in agreement. "I mean I had heard that there was a long lived couple but then again what witch or wizard isn't? I didn't recall their names though. I didn't honestly believe that they were in their six hundred's and sixties," she confessed.

Zabini nodded. "Mom told me herself so I believe it. If anyone would know, she would having worked closely with him for many years. As far as anyone knows their stone is the only one in existence. The Flamels haven't passed down the secret of how to create another Philosopher's stone to anyone else. Mom guesses that was why He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named never went after them. Should they die then the secret dies with them."

Harry felt a sudden chill traverse his spine upon hearing Blaise's words. "Just how big is this stone?"

"Not sure," Zabini replied with a slight shrug. "I wouldn't expect it to be too large though. Would make it terrible difficult to carry around if it was too big, I should think."

"So," Harry said as casually as he could, "small enough to fit into...say…the palm of Hagrid's hand?"

"I would guess so," the Slytherin wizard replied in a curious tone. "What's this all about Harry? Why the sudden interest in the Flamels?" Harry quickly explained about the break in at Gringotts as well as his conversation with Hagrid. "But…but that makes no sense," Blaise stammered, trying to put everything together. "Who could want the stone so badly that they would risk certain death if they were to be caught breaking into Gringotts?"

"What if…what if," Harry started with as pieces slowly started to fall into place, painting a picture that truly frightened him. "What if they weren't worried about being killed because they were already dead?" Harry could no longer ignore the cold knot of fear lodged deep within his gut. Seeing their blank stares he gave them the final piece of the puzzle. "What if it is Voldemort?" he posed, causing all four present to shudder at the name.

"Don't be daft, Harry," Blaise chimed in quickly. "You already killed him."

Harry hastily licked his lips before answering. "Hagrid told me on my birthday when he first brought me to the Wizarding world that the Headmaster and many others don't believe that he's dead. They think that he'll actually return." The five of them fell silent. If Albus Dumbledore said it then who were they to argue with the most powerful wizard alive today.


	13. A Bit Different

Harry Potter, the youngest Quidditch Seeker in a century, couldn't help but smile as the wind rushed through his hair, disheveling it even further than it already was. The young wizard was upon his Nimbus 2000, circling several hundred feet above the pitch below him. It was the first Saturday of the new month, his second while attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The sun was shining and it was a rather warm day for the first week of October on the Scottish coast.

With a subtle touch the Seeker sent his broom into a steep dive before barrel rolling out of it and making a mad run through the spectator towers as if they were part of a giant slalom course. Harry marveled at the feeling that flying gave him. In the air nothing else mattered but the broom beneath him and the open sky about him. _Flying…this is true freedom_ , Harry thought to himself with a happiness he had seldom known in his short life.

Rounding the final tower Harry dove once more, practicing several feints and diversionary tactics used primarily to throw the other team's Seeker off his twigs. As the ground rushed towards him he easily pulled up and climbed once more until he was once again several hundred feet in the air. The Nimbus was an excellent broom and he could see why so many other students were a bit envious of him for owning it. It was an odd feeling, having others feel envious of him for a change. His entire life he had always envied others and the happiness they had.

Harry paused to catch his breath and eyed his teammates below him. Flint, Pucey and Derrick, the team Chasers, were making runs at Bletchley, the Keeper. Off to one side Higgs and Bole were hitting both Bludgers back and forth to improve their accuracy as well as strengthen their arms. Marcus Flint, the team Captain, barked out instructions to Miles Bletchley as the Keeper allowed another Quaffle to get by him. They had been practicing every day as Flint said the nice weather wouldn't hold for much longer. Apparently winter came early in this area of Scotland. The young Seeker doubted he'd care what the weather was like as long as he could fly!

Harry's gaze shifted and looked about the stands at the handful of Slytherins which always were present at practices to show their support for their house. It was a common misconception that Slytherins only cared about themselves and none other. While there could be no doubt that as individuals they did place themselves first and foremost, against the other Houses they presented a united front. House unity, as within the other three Houses at Hogwarts, was a big deal, being a matter of pride. In a Pureblood dominant house such as Slytherin, pride was paramount to almost everyone.

As his eyes scanned over those here today he spied his friends, only to frown upon realizing that Hermione wasn't with them yet again. The bushy haired witch had been absent from their group more and more the past few weeks. _What could she be doing?_ Harry wondered to himself as he flew down towards the top of the Slytherin spectator tower to say hello. He, as well as the others, had asked the young witch if everything was alright and she had assured them that it was.

"Looking good out there, Potter," Tracey Davis called to him as he drew near, drawing the wizard from his thoughts as well as causing him to blush at the compliment. The auburn haired witch's smile grew upon seeing the color rise in Harry's cheeks at her words. "Don't you agree Daphne?" she pointedly asked her friend, her brown eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Hi, Harry," Daphne offered in way of greeting, ignoring Tracey's comment completely, realizing Tracey was just trying to have a go at the boy. "I see you're getting used to the Nimbus." The blonde witch's warm smile was infectious, causing the wizard to smile in return.

"He's a natural I tell ya," Blaise Zabini intoned excitedly before the wizard astride the broom could respond to the witch's words. "He's going to fly rings around that Gryffindor Seeker! Aren't you, mate?" the dark skinned Slytherin asked with much enthusiasm.

Harry couldn't help but grin broadly, the others boy's excitement being contagious it would seem. "I don't know if I would go that far. I'm just hoping not to fall off my broom," Harry replied as he steadied his Nimbus beside the top of the tower, glad that his friends were there to support him. While it would be normal to give Daphne and Tracey a hug, it was rather hard to do whilst astride a broom he reasoned. The thought of a hug made him think of the missing member of their group. "Hermione?" he asked.

"She said she had House stuff to do today," Daphne offered in a tone that was not all that convincing.

"I doubt you'll be seeing her here during a practice, Harry," Tracey offered sympathetically.

Blaise nodded in agreement before adding, "After the first time she came and your teammates accused her of spying for Gryffindor, I can see why she wouldn't want to come. They were pretty harsh on her. She'd have to be mental to want to go through that again."

The incident had occurred several weeks ago. At the time, Harry had been in the air, going through the new plays that Flint had given him and hence had missed the encounter. He had witnessed the bushy-haired witch running from the Pitch in tears though. When he had made to go after her Flint had called him over and proceeded to chew him out for bringing a Gryff to a Slytherin practice to spy on them. It hadn't been till the next day that Harry could apologize as Hermione had conspicuously absent from the evening meal that day. While he wished for his friend to be there, he also understood why she would refrain from doing so.

Seeing the worried look upon her friend's face Daphne tried to reassure him, "I'm sure she's alright, Harry. Hermione would tell us if there was something wrong." The blonde witch, not for the first time, was thankful for just how different Harry was from other boys his age and a good many that were older than him. He didn't care just about himself.

Harry nodded slowly, not so easily convinced. The young wizard was certain that he had done something wrong or had offended the witch in some manner. It had been his teammates after all that had caused her to run from the pitch in tears that day. _I might not know much about girls_ , he told himself silently, _but I know it can't be good to make one of them cry_. He was certain of this fact as it was something that Dudley would often do and take great pleasure in. It was a pretty fair bet that anything his cousin did for enjoyment was a bad thing he reasoned.

Putting on a brave face, the young wizard forced a smile. "I'm certain you're right, Daphne," he replied. "Are we all going to the library after here?" Harry asked hopefully in an attempt to change the subject.

Tracey looked down at the books sitting on the bench around them and then back to the wizard upon the broom. "As much fun as it is to watch you zip around the Pitch, Harry, it does get old after a bit," she said with a smile to take any sting out of her words. "We sort of brought our homework with us to help pass the time."

"Speak for yourself, Davis," Blaise quipped, being able to watch Quidditch the entire day without getting tired of it.

The smile upon Harry's face told the witch that he hadn't taken any offense at them doing their homework while being there. Even though it meant he'd have to do his on his own later. "I reckon that I'm having loads more fun than you are then, Tracey," he replied with as his smile grew into a grin.

"Oi! You don't have to rub it in, Potter!" Blaise whined, causing them all to chuckle at his words.

"Potter, get your arse back in the air," Flint bellowed up at the bespectacled boy from near the rings. "You're not here to socialize!"

"I best be going," Harry said looking back to his friends, his smile only slipping slightly. "See you lot at the evening meal then," he added before turning stick and hauling twig back into the air as the others waved goodbye to him.

"Soooo…any real idea where Granger might be?" Daphne asked as she opened the book in her lap. Like Harry, she too had become worried about the Gryffindor witch's recent absences. While she agreed with Zabini's reasons for Hermione to miss attending Quidditch practices, given that it was a different house than her own, she had also missed several nights in the library over the past couple of weeks.

Zabini just shrugged, believing he had already given the reason for her absence. Returning his attention to the Quidditch practice below on the Pitch he quickly dismissed the conversation from his immediate attention.

"I'm sure Zabini is right," Tracey offered her friend. "After what happened last time I doubt you'll see her here again. Though," Tracey added in a thoughtful tone, "that doesn't explain why she's missed the other times in the library."

"My thoughts as well," Daphne said, glad that she wasn't the only one who was concerned about their missing friend.

**-oOo-**

Hermione Granger gathered her books, slipping them into her backpack, much as she gathered her resolve. The bright witch still wasn't certain what was happening but she had deduced that something certainly was going on with her house mates. It had started a couple of weeks ago with strange glances in her direction whenever she walked past. From there is had blossomed into hushed whispers that would stop as soon as she drew near.

By the end of the first week of such treatment she started to notice others avoiding her presence. Shortly thereafter the pranks had started. A tripping hex here, missing parchment there, broken quills and hidden books. Nothing of a serious nature that had caused her anything more than embarrassment and a few skinned or bruised knees. Several times these occurrences had caused her to forego her usual nightly library study sessions with her friends. Missing out on studying and seeing her friends hurt her more than the silent treatment and pranks did.

At first she had attributed the treatment she was receiving to always being the best in class. In her primary school she had often received the same frigid treatment she was now the recipient of for doing so much better than her peers. While there had been pranks as well they had been limited as the students didn't have magic to rely upon. "But I'm getting points for our house!" she reasoned aloud to herself as she shouldered her school bag. "How can they possible be upset about that?" she asked as she turned and made her way from the dormitory, her question left unanswered.

In truth the treatment hurt. More so than she let on or wanted to admit. She had hoped, with this being a magical school, things would be different this time. The young witch had secretly harbored dreams that for once in her life she would fit in with her peers and be accepted as one of them, in contrast to her primary school. It hadn't taken the young girl of six long to realize that being different was the quickest way to be ignored or worse yet, teased. By the time she had discovered this though it had been too late as most of her classmates in her primary school already knew her to be different. Here was supposed to have been a chance for things to be different.

_I have no one to blame but myself_ , she mused silently as she descended the stairs into the Gryffindor common room. _I let my love of learning get the better of me._ Learning had always held a certain fascination to the young girl. The joy she felt when she understood something for the first time was like an adrenalin rush. It was a feeling that drove her with an almost single mindedness to take in and understand even more. The excitement this brought her was akin to opening a present only to find not only what was inside but another present waiting for her as well. The pursuit of knowledge became the happiness in her otherwise miserable academic world giving her an almost euphoric sense of accomplishment.

Magic, being an entirely new endeavor for her, presented the curious girl with an opportunity to learn a great deal more as well as affording her the opportunity to broaden her horizons of the world around her. The mysteries of the universe were out there just waiting for her to unravel them she believed almost reverently. Like a child with their first piece of candy, Hermione ever craved more and more of the delectable treat called knowledge. It was quickly becoming an insatiable hunger for her.

Finding an empty seat at one of the large tables within the common room, the young witch sat and began taking out the items she would need to start upon her Transfiguration homework. More and more she had taken to doing her homework within the common room as accidents only tended to befall to her when she walking the halls of the castle. She had attempted to determine who was tormenting her, however there were always enough students about from all the different houses so that she couldn't determine who the culprit or culprits were. Sadly, it was always in front of a large group of her peers that she'd suddenly find herself sprawling upon the floor, her books and what not scattering across the stone floor before her.

_Not that the time here has all been terrible_ , she thought to herself, thinking of Harry and her other friends. _They certainly accept me for who I am at least_. The fact that it was students from a house other than her own only added to her disappointment at how house life at her new school was turning out. The irony that it was students from Slytherin, a house despised by others, that accepted her while her own apparently wanted nothing to do with her didn't escape her notice. She wanted to scream and would have if she thought it would do her any good at all. It just wasn't the logical thing to do she had told herself, fearful of what her friends would think.

It was a new experience for her to have friends who were girls, or any friends for that matter. Thinking of Daphne and Tracey brought a smile to her lips as she placed her inkwell upon the table and opened her potions book. When she was with them she actually, for the first time in her young life, felt like she belonged. _I'm just one of the girls_ , she happily mused while reveling in the sensation that thought brought her.

Daphne always pushed her to her limits, and beyond, to do her best. While the two witches constantly strove to outdo the other there was no hostility in their actions, just good natured rivalry. Tracey never failed to make her laugh with some off comment or tidbit of news. The auburn haired witch always seem to know exactly what to say to lift her spirits, a fact she was very grateful for.

Then there was Harry. Thoughts of the dark haired wizard filtered through her young mind bringing a warmth to her chest and a slight blush to her cheeks that confused her on several different levels. She'd never been friends with a boy before and really didn't know what to expect. On the one hand she knew that her friendship with the bespectacled wizard should be no different than the ones she had with Tracey and Daphne and yet it was. Try as she might, she couldn't see herself giving either girl a kiss upon the cheek, though a hug may not out of the question. _It's all just so confusing_ , she silently lamented as she tried to analyze it logically.

_I'm worried about Harry_ , she admitted to herself while attempting to ignore the warmth in her chest that seemed to spread the longer her thoughts remained on the boy in question. _He seems so very utterly lost over the simplest of social behaviors. Not to say he isn't well mannered. It's as if he's been sheltered his entire life. For being the Savior of the Wizarding World he seems to know terrible little of it_ , she thought to herself before quickly realizing she didn't know much more herself. Still, what she did know was a great deal more than he apparently did. _He is fabulously adorable though when he doesn't know what to do_ , she thought only to feel the warmth spread further.

With a stifled growl the bushy-haired witch forced her attention to the book in front of her and from her bespectacled friend. Taking quill in hand she started working on the required essay; however it wasn't long till her thoughts once again returned to The-Boy-Who-Lived. She knew, from listening to her dorm mates, that boys in general were slow and dim-witted as well as uncaring and selfish while lacking a certain sense of hygiene. Yet, to her, it seemed as though Harry was none of those things. _If anything he's all the things they say the other boys are not. Why is that?_

As she thought about the matter she absently chewed upon the end of her quill. Over the course of the last several weeks Harry had been both kind and caring to her. When the other boys had snidely remarked about not riding his new broom and criticized her for stopping him, the young wizard had surprised her by actually defending her actions and telling those gathered that they would do well to listen to her as well. _A boy, telling other boys, to listen to me, a girl?_ She still wasn't certain what to make of that. It was perhaps the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. Once more she felt that peculiar and confusing warmth start to spread within her chest.

_Not that he doesn't have his bad points as well_ , she reasoned to herself, recalling the baggy clothes he seemed to prefer to wear when not wearing a school uniform. The young witch vividly recalled how Harry had dogged her steps after class one day apologizing for the actions of his teammates after they had called her unsavory names and threatened to hex her if she didn't leave the Pitch immediately. It was apparent that Harry felt it was his fault for inviting her to the Quidditch practice in the first place. She had told him, in no uncertain terms; that she didn't feel it was his apology to give as he had nothing to do with the confrontation in the first place. That didn't stop the boy from apologizing yet again. It was only the dejected look that appeared upon his face, when she wouldn't acknowledge his apology, which finally forced her into accepting it.

_He is far too quick to feel that the blame for everything lies with himself and not others._ This particular characteristic of her friend frustrated her to no end as she couldn't understand why he would be that way. It made no sense to her young logical mind. _Then there was also that stunt with the Malfoy boy and Neville's Rememberall, though that had actually worked to Harry's benefit_ , she reluctantly admitted seeing as Harry had been made Seeker due to it. Neville had been rather surprised when she had returned it to him, not having realized he had even lost it. Harry had asked her to return the item as Neville was her housemate. Hermione suspected that Harry hadn't actually wanted her fellow Gryff to know that he had been the one to rescue the glass sphere. _Boys certainly are peculiar!_

Blinking several times, Hermione realized that she had been zoning out for more than a few moments. Once her attention returned, she noticed that many of those present in the common room were shooting her nasty looks. Glancing about discreetly she saw others looking in her direction and then leaning over to whisper something to the others they were sitting with only to giggle at whatever was said. Stealing a glance in the opposite direction she saw Ronald Weasley talking to his twin brothers Fred and George. As she watched one of the twins passed something to their younger sibling. Judging by the folded paper she suspected it was a note or perhaps a missive from their mother.

_Ron Weasley, now there is a shock_ , Hermione reflected. When she had started to receive the dark looks from her house mates her first reaction had been to withdraw, just as she had always done in primary school. It was during this time that the young Weasley always seemed to be about and near her. When the rest of their class had stopped speaking to her he had gone out of his way to engage her in conversation. Several times the painfully awkward Gryff had even sat and studied with her, though she had spent more time helping him than doing her own work. Not for the first time she wondered if she had perhaps misjudged the ginger-haired boy.

Feeling the eyes of the room upon her, she inwardly groaned, before starting to put her things away as she realized that she wouldn't be able to study under these circumstances. Being careful not to look at anyone, the young witch stood, shouldered her book bag, and walked out the portal. Hermione had only gone a short distance down the hall when she heard someone exit the portal and hurry after her.

"Hermione! Wait up!" Ron Weasley called as he hurried to catch the witch ahead of him. The witch in question paused and turned upon hearing her name called. "Heading to the library?" the redhead asked as he reached Hermione, falling into step beside her as he adjusted the book bag slung over his shoulder.

Hermione simply nodded before adding, "I was finding it a bit difficult to concentrate back there."

"Exploding snaps are meant to be loud," Ron stated, referring to the card game that Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had been engrossed in. Seeing no reply forthcoming the wizard pressed on. "Mind if I join you? I'm having a bit of trouble with the Charms work Professor Flitwick assigned us."

"Sure, Ronald," Hermione replied, glad for the company and the chance to talk with someone. As the two of them descended the Grande Staircase to the third floor Hermione worried about her housemates and their actions. Absently she chewed her lower lip, a clear indication she was deep in thought if ever there was one.

Upon reaching the library they found an out of the way table and set up their items so they could work on their assignments. The next hour pasted quickly, with Hermione mostly helping Ron with his homework. "Honestly Ronald, were you not paying attention is class at all?" the witch asked in a tone bordering on exasperation after having to explain something for the third time.

"I was listening," Ron replied defensively. "It just doesn't always make sense," he mumbled as if it was hard to admit the fact. Judging by the redness of his ears it probably was.

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _I have to remember that not everyone will be able to grasp concepts as quickly as Daphne and I can._ Realizing this didn't stop her from recalling that Harry and Tracey had picked it up just as easily. "Alright, Ronald," she said in a patient tone of voice. "Do you understand the first part of it?" Seeing the ginger-haired boy nod, she continued. "Then start on the essay and cover that part first. When you get to the next section, we can go over it once again," she told him.

Hermione waited till she saw her housemate dip his quill and begin writing before turning to her own work. The over achieving witch already had most of her work for the next week completed with the only item remaining being a rather lengthily parchment on the ingredients used in a Forgetfulness potion. Professor Snape and short parchments were two terms that were apparently never used in the same sentence. A fact she rather enjoyed as it allowed her to fully express her ideas.

As Hermione worked on the essay her thoughts kept returning to the odd treatment she was receiving from her housemates, with the exception of the youngest Weasley. More than once she had gone over her behavior and other than being overly intelligent she couldn't for the life of her determine how she could have estranged the entire Gryffindor House from her. Finally, deciding that she wouldn't be able to work till she asked, Hermione set her quill aside, careful not to splotch her parchment. "Ronald?"

"Hmm," the red-head replied without looking up from the parchment he was busy scribbling on.

"Can I ask you something?" Hermione posed. "Friend to friend," she added for some uncertain reason. While she was certainly coming to think of him as a friend, he wasn't on the same level as Tracey, Daphne or Harry. Even Blaise, whom she had slowly come to know, wasn't on their level as yet though she certainly thought of the dark skinned wizard as a friend.

Ron paused and then looked up at the witch seated across from him. "Sure, Hermione. Ask me anything," he said as his blue eyes regarded her intently.

The young Gryffindor witch opened her mouth to reply but suddenly found herself distracted for a moment. There it was, right there under his left eye. "You know you have some ink on your face," she told him, only to see him wipe at the right side of his cheek. "Right here," she added, pointing at her own cheek to guide him to the blemish.

"Uh, thanks," Ron said as he used the sleeve of his robe to wipe most of the ink from his face. "Did I get it?" he enquired, to which Hermione gave a slight nod that he had. Dipping his quill in his inkwell the wizard returned to his writing.

"Ronald, that's not what I wanted to tell you...I mean ask you," Hermione said to get his attention again. It never failed to amaze her how Ron's attention was limited to one thing at a time. _No wonder he is having such a difficult time in his classes_ , she reasoned.

"Sorry," Ron said with a small grin before making a big production of setting his quill aside and giving her his undivided attention. The boy's over exaggerated movements and theatrical flourishes were rather comical and under other circumstance would have no doubt drawn a chuckle from the witch seated across from him.

"Right then," Hermione opened with, pausing for a second to gather her thoughts before bravely pushing on. "I can't help but notice that something has changed over the last couple of weeks. I've racked my brains trying to determine just what it is and have as yet been able to come up with an appropriate answer."

"What do you mean something's changed?" Ron asked, cutting into her speech before Hermione could continue.

Hermione, who hated to be interrupted, refrained from glaring as she continued. "Others in our house have been giving me….well…looks. I somehow think they're none too happy with me. They whisper behind my back or stop talking suddenly when I draw near," she continued to explain. "There have even been a number of pranks, though I can't say with any degree of certainty that it's other Gryffindor's responsible for those. Do you know anything about it? Did I do something to offend our entire house?"

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment before he replied. "Well, I have heard a few rumors," he offered slowly.

"Rumors! About me?" Hermione snapped loudly only to quickly look about at Ron's gesture to keep her voice down. "What kind of rumors? Who started them? What are they about? Why is this the first time I've heard about this?" the young witch asked, bombarding her friend with a steady succession of questions as her temper began to flare. As best as she could tell she had done nothing to cause any rumors to circulate about her. _Perhaps someone is spreading lies?_

Ron glanced about to make certain no one was watching them before he leaned in, waiting for her to do the same before replying in a quiet tone of voice. "I don't know who started them or even when they started," he told Hermione. "I only know about them as I overheard the twins discussing them with Lee Jordan the other day. It seems that people are saying that you don't want to be a Gryff and that you're going to ask the Sorting Hat to resort you."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed loudly upon hearing his words. "Is that even possible?" she asked rhetorically, well aware that the boy wouldn't know if it was or wasn't as she herself didn't know. "What else have they been saying about me?" she demanded angrily.

Ron gulped, not having counted on the witch with him becoming angry. "They…they said you wanted to be in a different house is all," Ron hastily answered with, deciding not to mention anything further. The anger apparent in the Hermione's face was beginning to frighten him. He'd seen his mother on a rampage enough times to know that girls could be right scary when they fancied to.

"Which house out of the three remaining do they think I want to be in?" Hermione asked, certain she already knew the answer. Given her tendencies to be overly smart and out performing her classmates she could well guess that people would have little trouble believing she'd prefer to be in Ravenclaw. Admittedly, if she had to pick a different house, Ravenclaw would certainly be at the top of her list.

"S…Slytherin," Ron barely managed to squeak out fearfully. The ensuing silence did nothing to lessen his growing belief that this was not going to turn out well at all.

To say that the witch was shocked would have been an understatement. Hermione sat there gobsmacked and at a loss for words for a full minute before she could say anything. When she finally did manage to speak it was in dazed and slightly distracted tone of voice. "How…how could they possible think that?" she asked as her eyes fell to the table top as her mind reeled under the very thought of being a Slytherin. "My parents are non-magical. I'd be looked down upon as the lowest of the low were I a Slytherin."

Even having only spent a little over a month at Hogwarts the intelligent witch had quickly learned that those who called themselves Purebloods had a tendency to look down upon others as being lesser creatures than themselves. Those deemed Half-bloods, meaning that at least one of their parents were Purebloods, were at least tolerated. For those like herself, with two non-magical parents, they were looked upon as barely a step above Goblins…if that. It was a distasteful and barbarically antiquated social structure yet it was accepted by most of the Wizarding world apparently. The young witch knew that she would have to try and do something about that when she was older.

"That's what I told them," Ron said in a supportive manner. "I said there's no way that you'd want to be a snake! You're far too smart for that, I said."

"Thank you, Ronald," Hermione said with a small genuine smile, her anger momentarily forgotten. "How could they ever think something like that though," she asked thoughtfully.

Ron visibly screwed up his courage and replied with, "Perhaps its Potter and those other snakes you're always hanging about. I mean it's not natural for snakes and Gryff's to hang out together. It goes against the very laws of nature!" he added, scrunching up his face distastefully at the very thought.

"What?" Hermione asked, shocked once again by his words, though less so than before. "Harry, Daphne and Tracey are my friends," she said defensively. "They're the first friends I made when I came here. Just because I'm friends with Harry and the rest of them doesn't mean I want to be in a House that will persecute me simply based upon who my parents are!" she responded with as her temper started to flare once again.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron said, attempting to reason with her, which was something out of the ordinary for him. "You're not seeing it as the rest of the House sees it. There has been a long standing feud between our House and theirs that stretches back to the time of the founders. It was Salazar Slytherin himself that slighted the noble Godric Gryffindor and started it after all!"

"That's not what it says in _Hogwarts: A History_ ," Hermione was quick to counter with, having read the book four times by then. "It was never determined why Salazar Slytherin left Hogwarts. While people have speculated that there was a disagreement between two of the Founders, there have been no clear proof of just what it was."

Ron shrugged, dismissing her argument as if it was nothing. "Does it really matter what the facts are, Hermione?" Ron asked loudly. "If the rest of the Gryff's think you want to be a snake does what really happened hundreds of years ago matter? For all we know they got in an argument over who got the last kipper!"

_Trust Ron to bring food into the discussion at some point_ , she absently thought, though she had to agree with him. If the members of Gryffindor House thought she wanted to be a snake then that was all that mattered and was the problem that had to be dealt with. "But what can I do to show them that they're wrong?" Hermione asked absently aloud as she thought the problem over logically.

"The first thing you should do is stop hanging about Potter and those other snakes," Ron said helpfully, believing the question was directed at him. "People see you with them and it's pretty blatant that you'd rather be there than with other Gryff's."

"Is that how you see it, Ronald?" Hermione asked hesitantly, eyeing the boy.

Ron shrugged his gangly shoulders haphazardly as he answered rather bashfully, "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Thank you, Ronald," Hermione offered with a warm smile upon hearing his words. "I can't just stop being friends with Harry and them though," she added determinedly, once more worrying about what to do as she nibbled on her lower lip.

"Why not?" Ron asked rather testily. "I mean what do they have that you couldn't find with another Gryff or even myself for that matter?"

"It's not what they have or others don't have," Hermione replied as she attempted to articulate her thoughts. "There is just something about them. They understand me because they're like me, an Outsider," Hermione said, suddenly recalling the name she had overheard Zabini and Daphne use to refer to their unique group. "We don't really belong anywhere which is why we belong with each other. I don't know how else to explain it, Ronald."

"Outsider?" Ron asked in a frustrated tone, at a loss for what exactly the witch was saying. "Hermione, how can you belong anywhere else other than with other Gryffindors? That is where the Sorting Hat placed you after all, wasn't it?"

"I don't know, Ronald. I mean I'm sure the hat had a reason for placing me where it did but I don't know what it would be," the witch said quickly. "I mean, name me one other in our House that revises as much as I do or reads as much as I do."

"No one reads as much as you do, Granger," Ron told her with a humorless snort.

"They do, the Outsiders," Hermione replied in an effort to refute his words. "Daphne reads as much as I do and I suspect that Tracey could as well if she but applied herself a bit more."

"Yeah but those are girls," Ron countered with, believing it to be a good argument, as everyone knew that girls did those sort of things. "Besides, Gryffindors are known for their bravery and courage, not for the number of books they've read or the O's they've received."

"I bet those in Ravenclaw read a great deal as well," the witch continued with, "and they're not all girls. Harry even reads as much as I do," she added, suddenly realizing that it was true. Whenever she saw the emerald-eyed boy he was always reading something. "In fact he might even read more than I do," she said trailing off with a worried expression crossing her face as she realized that maybe she had been skiving off in that regard. _I need to read more!_

"Harry Potter!" Ron snapped angrily, having had more than his fill of The-Boy-Who-Lived. "All you talk about is Harry Potter! It's no wonder that people are jumping to conclusions concerning you. He's a snake, Hermione. None of their lot are any good!"

Hermione quickly leaned back in her chair, taken aback by the angry words of the wizard across from her. "He's heralded as the savior of the Wizarding World, Ronald!" Hermione pointed out angrily in defense of her friend. "Or doesn't that matter to anyone in this school?"

Ron threw his hands up in the air in disgust and then lunged to his feet and started packing his things away forcibly. Once finished he slung his backpack over one shoulder before looking over at his housemate. "A bit of advice Granger, one friend to another," he offered in a tone that was anything but friendly. "If you want your housemates to accept you, you'll have to prove to them just where your loyalties lie! I've done all I can for you. If you don't forget about those snakes soon, whispers, glares and harmless pranks will be the least of your concerns."

"What do you mean, Ronald?" Hermione asked only to see the wizard turn away and storm angrily out of the library leaving a confused and slightly worried witch behind in his wake.

**-oOo-**

Harry trudged up the hill towards the castle from the pitch. Flint had finally called it a day and allowed them to shower and head back before the evening meal. The young wizard hurt in places no eleven year old should hurt in. _I never realized there were so many muscles there_ , he thought to himself upon feeling a tremor from the protesting anatomy. Had there been anyone there to see he was certain he would have made a comical sight as he walked while trying to rub the inside of his protesting thigh.

Descending the stairs into the Dungeons, he quickly made his way through the Slytherin common room and into his dormitory to retrieve his book bag. _Hopefully I can do some reading in the library before the evening meal is ready._ Harry groaned when he saw the state of his school bag. Someone had nearly ripped it in twain, spilling its contents out upon the floor beside his bed. "I guess I should have expected that," he said upon realizing that he hadn't placed the bag within his trunk, leaving it sitting upon his chair instead by mistake.

With a resigned sigh, the raven-haired wizard began collecting his stuff from off the floor. He was thankful that his inkwell had been properly stoppered and hence hadn't leaked. The rolls of parchment hadn't fared as well though as they were drenched with some form of liquid. Rather than risk touching them he used the Levitation Charm to move them directly into the nearest rubbish bin. He had made that mistake once before which had resulted in a burning rash on his hands, requiring a trip to the hospital wing for an ointment.

Collecting his quill set, inkwell and books, which while none the worse for wear, were still not in the best of shape, he set them upon his desk. A quick glance about assured him that he was the only one in the room. " _Reparo_!" Harry spoke the proper incantation as he used the Mending Charm to repair his book bag. After quickly placing his remaining items, minus the parchment, into his bag he slung it over his shoulder and quickly retraced his steps. Once out of the Slytherin common room he headed for the castle's third floor and the relative sanctuary of the library located there.

Breathing a slight sigh of relief as he stepped off the moving staircase and into the library hallway, Harry made his way to the large double doors and slipped through them as quietly as possible. While he had restored the books he had transfigured the Head Librarian had a very long memory. Harry couldn't help but feel that Madam Pince never failed to eye him suspiciously when she saw him. He got the impression from her glares that she half expected him to damage her precious books once again if given half the chance.

After a quick peek about and upon not seeing Madam Pince in the area, Harry turned to make his way to the usual table that he and his friends usually used. The green-eyed youth paused, spotting a very familiar bushy haired witch off by herself, and altered his course to where she was seated instead. As he drew near his brow creased in worry at the bewildered and slight frightened look upon the Gryffindor's face. "Alright there, Hermione?" he asked as he paused, standing not far from her side.

The witch slowly turned and looked up at him with brown watery eyes. For a moment there was no reaction then suddenly Harry found himself with a crying witch in his arms as Hermione threw herself at him and buried her face in his shoulder. "Whatever it is I'm sorry for having done it," Harry offered upon hearing quiet little sobs and sniffles coming from his friend.

"It…it's not you, Harry," Hermione sobbed into Harry's shoulder, her words barely distinguishably through her crying.

The witch in her arms shook her head, telling him it wasn't him that caused her to be in such a sate. Awkwardly, he alternated between rubbing her back and just holding her as he hadn't a clue as to what he was supposed to do beyond that. Harry was glad though that whatever caused this in his friend it at least wasn't his fault as he had feared. "It can't be that bad, can it?" he asked gently.

"It's terrible," Hermione finally mumbled into Harry's shoulder. "They all hate me," she told him dejectedly. "No one likes me! I don't know what I should do."

"I don't hate you, Hermione," Harry offered, trying to be supportive while not having any idea what had his friend so upset. "I can't speak for others but I most certainly like you. How about you tell me what happened and maybe between the two of us we can figure out what we need to do?"

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione replied as she lifted her head from his shoulder with a final soft sniffle. The fact that Harry was apparently going to help her made her feel slightly better. The young witch's eyes grew wide upon seeing the large damp spot upon Harry's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she offered as she reached out and ran her fingertips over the spot as if she could just brush it away in such a manner.

"That's alright," Harry told her without even looking at the spot on his robes. Slipping a threadbare handkerchief from his pocket he gently dabbed at her cheeks, wiping away the tear tracks that he could see there. "What's a few tears among friends," he added with a small lopsided smile. Gently, Harry eased the witch back down into her seat before taking the one next to her. "Why don't you tell me what's going on?"

Hermione gave a slight nod and after pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts, proceeded to tell Harry everything. She related how she had started to receive looks and then rumors and finally pranks, ending with what Ron had told her. "What ever am I going to do, Harry?" the young girl of twelve asked.

"I don't know what to tell you, Hermione," Harry confessed even though he didn't like to admit it. He saw that upon hearing his words Hermione's shoulders drooped in defeat. Hating to see his friend in such a manner he quickly tried to think of something to say to cheer her up. "I think if our situations were reversed that I would do everything it took to keep you as a friend, Hermione. You're my first friend ever and are more important to me than all the other houses combined," he told her in a rush of words in his effort to try and console her. "I would never ever let you go!" Harry was more than a little flummoxed when he suddenly found himself the recipient of a bone crushing hug.

"Thank you, Harry!" Hermione said, turning her head just slightly enough to chastely leave a kiss upon the wizard's cheek before sitting back once again, a smile blazing across her features as she took both his hands in hers and held them on her knees. "Don't you dare ever change, Harry Potter!" she mockingly scolded the boy across from her.

"A...alright," Harry agreed, still confused as to just why Hermione had hugged him and thanked him. He had learned over the course of the last month that when it came to girls, especially the three that were now his friends, sometimes he just had to go with things…even if he didn't understand them. Blaise had told him it was safer that way, a fact he had been told by his mother. "I'm certain you or the others will let me know if I do."

Hermione grinned, nodding in agreement with his words. _We've far too much time invested in you Harry to let you undo all our hard work_ , she mused playfully. Truthfully the three witches hadn't needed to do much. A nudge here, a suggestion there was all it ever took to get the boy to do things. More often than not they simply inserted missing social manners that should have been there in the first place. The hugs and chaste kisses were just added bonuses as they saw it.

"If it wasn't for the pranks I could manage this I think," Hermione said distractedly as she puzzled over the current predicament she had found herself in.

"You shouldn't be ignored and slandered just for spending time with your friends," Harry stated defensively as he defended her from herself, as strange as that may sound.

"I dealt with that before in primary school," Hermione admitted unknowingly as she continued to try and find a logical way to resolve the issue with her housemates.

Harry gulped upon hearing her admission, suddenly finding her to be far more like him than he had first thought. As he watched Hermione, gently chewing on her lower lip and her brow crinkled in concentration, a sudden thought came to him. "Hermione," Harry said hesitantly, only continuing upon seeing the witch look up and regard him directly. "Pack your thing up, there's someplace we need to go."

"Where's that, Harry?" the young witch asked even as she started placing her books into her book bag. Hermione frowned when Harry wouldn't answer her right away. Once everything was stowed in her bag she slung it over her left shoulder and stood. "Where are we going, Harry?" she enquired once again, though with a little more force this time.

Harry chuckled. "You'll see," he told her.

Hermione huffed and folded her arms over her chest in a stubborn pose. "Harry Potter! I'm not moving a step from this spot till you tell me what you have planned!" she declared with a defiant glare at the young wizard.

Harry's grin grew broader as his emerald eyes sparkled humorously. "Trust me," he countered with as he held out his hand towards her. Hermione eyed the proffered member for a long moment before hesitantly reaching out and slipping her hand into his. Hand in hand, Harry led the bushy-haired witch from the library.

**-oOo-**

Aurora Sinistra took a slow sip of her tea before setting the porcelain cup back on the corner of her desk. The Hogwarts' Astronomy teacher turned her attention to the next report only to smile warmly upon reading the name Harry Potter upon it. The first year students had been given the assignment of selecting an astrological Zodiac sign and writing a half of a meter report about the constellation and the characteristic attributed to their Zodiac sign of choice.

The witch's brow creased in puzzlement upon seeing that the wizard had selected Virgo, The Maiden, as his Zodiac sign to report upon. In most cases students would typically select their own Zodiac signs to work with, which was why she found it curious that Harry hadn't selected his own. She was fairly certain that Virgo wasn't his sign.

Reaching down the witch opened the left most bottom drawer of her desk and extracted a rather large leather bound book with the words ' _Student Registry_ ' embossed across the front cover. Opening the magically updating tome she ran her finger down the listing of students name till she found Harry's. There, just to the right of the boy's name was his date of birth, July 31st 1980.

Aurora ' _hmphed_ ' to herself as she saw the date. "Just as I thought, a Leo. Maybe that's why everyone was certain he would be sorted into Gryffindor," she mused aloud. Out of curiosity the Professor started back at the top of the list of first year students, checking to see if any of them were Virgos. As her finger trailed down the listing, stopping momentarily at three names, a smile blossomed upon her face and grew. "Now what are the chances of that?"

Acting upon a whim, Aurora dug through the stack of school work and found the essays for the three she sought, those who were the only Virgo's in their year. "Let's see, Miss Granger…Leo. Miss Greengrass…Leo. Miss Davis…Leo. How very curious, and very sweet," she declared softly, both amused and rather touched by the foursome. Apparently the young Potter boy had picked the one Zodiac sign that was shared by all three witches and they had unerringly all selected his Zodiac sign.

"I wonder if they did so on purpose?" Aurora idly speculated concerning the essays of her favorite four first years. Over the past several weeks she had made certain to keep a watchful eye upon the four friends when they attended her class. It was apparent that the Zabini boy was friends with all of them; however, she couldn't help but notice that when they were atop the astronomy tower is was always just the four of them together.

"They're certainly close enough to know each other's birthdays," she reasoned. Still, she just couldn't bring herself to accept that as the reason. Perhaps it was the romantic in her, thrilled at watching what she believed to be young love in bloom, that made her feel the way she did. All she was certain of was that it warmed her young heart every time she saw the four of them together.

Regardless of the reason she felt certain that is was something else, something greater, at work. Fate? No, she did not want to say that without checking the stars. Astrology after all was a much more factual area of expertise, especially when compared to something as dodgy as Divination! While she genuinely liked Sybill Trelawney, and respected her as a colleague, she just couldn't help but feel that the woman wasn't all there. _Just a touch around the bend perhaps_ , she speculated, while being careful to never say aloud.

Further thoughts were halted by a light knocking on her office door. "Enter," the youngest Professor currently at Hogwarts called only to smile broadly as she spied the dark-haired head of The-Boy-Who-Lived appear once the door had been opened far enough to admit him. Aurora motioned the boy in only to see Miss Granger was behind him and apparently holding his hand.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry offered a bit nervously after closing the door behind Hermione and himself, letting go of his friend's hand in the process. "I was hoping you might have a bit of time to spare for us?" Harry's first inclination had been to go to Professor Flitwick office, only because he found it far easier to speak to the diminutive man rather than a larger adult. However, on their way past the Charm's classroom Harry had spied the Professor tutoring some older students and so, not wishing to intrude, he had lead Hermione down to the first floor and the Astronomy Professor's office instead.

"Of course, Mr. Potter," Aurora said as she gestured, two comfortable chairs appearing before her desk. "Why don't you and Miss Granger have a seat? How are the glasses working out for you? No more headaches?"

Harry motioned for Hermione to step past him and select the seat she wanted before moving to the remaining one. "They're fabulous!" Harry replied, unconsciously adjusting the glasses in question as he waited for Hermione to be seated before sitting down himself. "No headaches either," he added upon seeing the Professors expectant look. The young wizard decided it would be best not to mention the few times that his scar had burned as he was fairly certain that had nothing to do with his eye sight. What it did have to do with on the other hand was something he currently held no clue to.

Hermione looked towards her friend, concerned due to the Professor's questions. _Harry never mentioned he was having headaches._ The young witch made a mental note to ask him about it later. Truthfully she was more than a little nervous, the wringing of her hands in her lap a clear indication of this fact.

It didn't take an overly bright person, which she was, to realize that Harry had brought her here to speak about the problem she was experiencing with her housemates. Though she liked the astronomy professor she really wasn't comfortable with discussing this with an adult. In the past, doing so had only caused the problem to escalate while becoming more covert at the same time.

Aurora closed her copy of the Student Registry and returned it to her bottom drawer before folding her hands on the desktop and regarding the two first year students before her. "Now then, what may I do for Miss Granger and yourself, Mr. Potter?" she enquired calmly.

"I'm having a problem with my housemates," Harry quickly said before the witch next to him could even barely open her mouth.

"What sort of problems and with which ones, Mr. Potter?" Aurora asked, concern for the young wizard causing her pulse to elevate slightly. If there was one thing she couldn't abide it was anyone hurting a child or even an older child hurting one smaller or weaker than them. She was well aware from her years attending school at Hogwarts that bullying was a part of life and generally accepted as a rite of passage. _Just because some accept it doesn't mean that I have to!_ The Professor suddenly found herself wanting to protect the young wizard before her.

"Please, Professor," Harry said with a small indulgent smile, "Harry…just Harry, if you would please?" Upon seeing the dark skinned witch nod once and return his slight smile he continued. "As for which of them, well, almost all of them I guess," he stated almost sheepishly. "It started out with just strange looks and then progressed to glares and whispers," Harry informed the Professor. "Since then it's become pranks and occasionally some befoulment of my bed or school stuff.

Hermione just stared at Harry in disbelief. She had been certain that she would have to tell the Professor everything that had been happening to her. The very thought of that had embarrassed her while causing her stomach to twist up into a knot while flopping about. Yet here was her friend, taking it all on himself. She wasn't even certain how Harry had known about the school items and her personal possessions being messed with as she hadn't told him of that. _Perhaps he's just embellishing a bit_ , she thought. "Harry," Hermione said, suddenly feeling guilty about allowing him to tell her tale. "I-,"

"It's alright, Hermione," Harry quickly said, cutting her off before the young witch could say that it was actually her being harassed. "I don't mind if Professor Sinistra knows."

"I'm glad you came to me, Harry," Aurora said, with a slight smile due to using his given name as he requested. The fact that the boy trusted her enough to seek her out about a potentially embarrassing incident only made her desire all the more to help him. "Have you spoken with your Head of House as yet about this matter?" she asked. Knowing Severus, she doubted that he would take it kindly should she step into the middle of what he would consider an internal matter. Not that she'd let that stop her from doing it.

"No," Harry replied giving a slight shake of his head as he cast his eyes down towards the floor. "I don't think I want to get my entire house in trouble, Professor. I'm just not sure how to deal with it."

Aurora could understand the young wizard's reasoning, though she was of the mind that if they were all bullying Harry, or anyone for that matter, they deserved a fair bit of punishment. "It's doubtful that it is the entire house. The seventh years are busy getting ready for their N.E.W.T.'s and the fifth years their O.W.L.'s, so they both pretty much ignore the world right now. Sixth years are not much different with the workload they'll have this year," she explained. "That leaves just the fourth years and below. Do you know why they've singled you out, Harry?"

Harry gave a slight nod of his head before replying in a hesitant voice, "I think it is due to the friends I decided to have," he told the older witch across the desk from him.

Hermione could no longer just sit there and quickly reached out and laid her hand on Harry's arm, giving a small squeeze of appreciation for what he was doing for her. Had there been any doubt what-so-ever remaining about if he truly was her friend or not it would have been banished in that instant. As there was no doubt, all she could do is clasp Harry's arm as she felt the familiar warmth seep into her chest and slowly start to spread once again.

_How do you tell an eleven year old that the world is not always a nice place?_ The Wizarding world was anything but nice place. There were certain aspects of it that were amazingly wonderful, yet like all things there were also those that were the complete opposite. As distasteful as House rivalry was, it had long been an acceptable and expected aspect of school life there at Hogwarts. The Professor doubted that it would change any time soon, if ever.

Aurora smiled softly as she saw Hermione bravely reach out and give Harry's arm a comforting squeeze. Gathering her own courage, the young witch decided to stay with the truth. _Hopefully when they are a little older they will understand better._ "Harry, there will always be people who will not approve of your choices in life. It doesn't matter if it is the profession you choose when you're older, the manner in which you carry yourself or even the friends that you decide to keep about you."

Aurora looked between the two of them, noting that she had their complete and undivided attention. She resisted the urge to grin, though it was hard to not to do so, when she noticed the young witch's thumb absently rubbing back and forth across the young wizard's arm. Apparently the two first year students were too engrossed in what she was telling them to notice the affectionate display.

"I'm sure you've both heard the phrase, 'You can't please everyone'?" she asked only to see them both nod slightly before she continued. "If you can't please everyone then you should please yourselves. By this I mean that you shouldn't allow others to dictate what you can and can not do. Within the rules," she hastily added. "Choose whichever career you feel most inclined towards. Dress in the manner that makes you most comfortable. Most certainly," she added with a pointed glance between the both of them, "choose the company you want, not that which others say you should keep. Personally, from what I have seen, I think you are a fine judge of the people you should be near, Harry."

Harry blushed slightly at the compliment, still being unused to receiving them. It was not something that was a regular occurrence while growing up with the Dursleys. Harry was attempting to recall if he had ever received a compliment from his relatives when he suddenly had a thought. "Professor, what if the situation doesn't get better or it even gets worse?" The prospect of Hermione having to deal with more than she had already was not something Harry liked to think about, but he grudgingly admitted it was a possibility.

Nodding slightly, Aurora had to admit that the boy's concerns were valid. The thought that any student would take things past harmless pranks was enough to spark her anger, but she wisely realized that now was not the time for such thoughts. "I understand your concerns as they very well could be valid, Harry," Aurora admitted regrettably. After pausing for a moment to think she continued, "There may very well come a time when your convictions will be tested, when the pressures that others place upon you seem too heavy a burden to bear. I hope that such a time never graces your young shoulders." She told him earnestly. "Should it though you may have to choose between doing what is easy and what you feel is right, for you."

"But how will I know what to do, Professor?" Harry asked after licking his lips quickly to moisten them.

"I think that is a choice that we each have to make for ourselves, Harry. Though not till we're both much older," Sinistra added with a forced smile and a short chuckle to break the tense mood that seemed to have enveloped the room. "If anything happens, my door is always open. That goes for both of you," the dark-skinned witch added turning her gaze to Hermione who had remained uncharacteristically silent during the entire exchange.

"Now, unless I miss my mark it is nearly time for the evening meal," Aurora said, once more falling into the role of a Hogwarts Professor. "The two of you should go wash up before your late for the meal," she said, shewing them out of her office with a smile. _I'll have to speak with Professor McGonagall_ , Aurora thought to herself as she watched them leave. It had been clear to her, judging by the expressions upon the young bushy-haired witch's face, that the one with the problem was actually the Granger girl. She may be relatively new to teaching, compared to many of the other professors, but she knew how to read her students!

Harry and Hermione quickly let themselves out of the office but had only gone a few feet down the hallway when Harry suddenly stopped. "Wait for me here a sec?" he asked. "I forgot something."

"Sure," Hermione replied, willing to do just about anything for the boy by this point after what he had just done for her.

Harry spun about and hurried back into the professor's office without bothering to knock. Aurora looked up at the boy's entrance and arched a brow in question. Quickly making his way around the witch's desk Harry leaned in and quickly placed a kiss upon the stunned witch's cheek. "Thanks Professor! You were brilliantly helpful!" he declared as he made a hasty exit so as not to keep Hermione waiting. Behind him he left a very befuddled and once again blushing witch in his wake.

"That was quick," Hermione said once Harry rejoined her and they fell into step with each other. "What did you forget?" she curiously asked as they walked down the hallway towards the Great Hall.

"To say thanks," Harry replied, causing the witch next to him to smile appreciatively and once again give thanks that Harry wasn't like other boys.


	14. The House of Red & Gold

A flash of lightening illuminated the dark sky in the distance, quickly followed by the low deep rumblings of thunder that sounded much akin to the loud grumbling of some monstrous beast's stomach. The first storm of the autumn season had arrived with whipping winds, blinding flashes of lightening and boisterous thunder. The fall storms were anything but gentle in the Scottish Highlands, blowing in from off the sea with little to no warning. The end of October was a mere five days away, meaning that winter, with its freezing temperatures and furious snow storms, was not far off.

The seasonal rain storm had arrived earlier that morning, beginning its assault upon the castle and its outlying buildings with little regard to their inhabitants. Rain pummeled the weathered stones of the great fortress relentlessly, adding a dampness to the atmosphere within. Those foolish enough to venture out were quickly soaked to the bone unless they knew an adequate water repellant charm.

The pudgy dark-hair boy paid the elements outside no mind. He knew well and good that he would have to contend with them upon his return trip to the castle, but for now he was safe, dry and warm, tucked within the number three greenhouse as he was. The metallic sent of the soil, the sharp smell of fertilizer and the slightly damp stagnant fragrance of water all combined to wrap the boy in a cocoon of familiarity that he knew so well. The scion to the Longbottom name, one Neville Longbottom to be precise, was no stranger to greenhouses. Quite the opposite in fact! For the young lad of eleven, a greenhouse would always remind him of home.

Longbottom Manor, where Neville grew up, was an old and prestigious structure which had seen several remodeling's over its long life. Once, back further than any could remember, it had been a stone keep castle. Over time the outer protective walls had been removed in preference to the pleasant view afforded from the keep's windows. What had once been the bailey now were impeccably manicured lawns of green which rolled out well past where the moat once was, its indent upon the landscape all but removed by time. The road leading to the impressive structure had been cobbled by a distant descendant, the lane now splitting in twain to form a circle whose apex ended before the front doors of the residence. A large fountain sitting in the center of the cobbled round-about, depicting Hippogriffs and Centaurs, merrily greeted guests with the faint musical sounds of its water which was enchanted to play different melodies throughout the day.

Each generation of the Longbottom line had made modifications to their hereditary seat till it no longer remotely resembled the rugged castle that had marked its beginning. The modifications had left the building, with its several dozen outlying structures, looking as modern as could be. To the average Muggle it would have been seen as an antiquated Victorian era structure, fairly modern by Wizarding standards. The manor house sported several dozen bedrooms, numerous studies and libraries, three ball rooms, more dining rooms than could be used in a month of Sundays as well as its own great hall, complete with a sunken fire pit at its center! For all its vastness there were but two rooms that mattered to the young heir, his parent's room being one and the greenhouse attached to it being the other.

Growing up, the young boy hadn't known what exactly had happened to his parents only that they weren't there, no matter how much he had wished for them to be. His paternal grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, had seen to his upbringing and home schooling instead. Neville had quickly learned that it was best to be seen but not heard around the stern elder stateswoman, better yet to not be seen at all. The woman could be downright frightening at times, or so the lad thought. It wasn't that Neville didn't love his grandmother, for he did greatly, but rather that she always found him lacking. Time spent in her presence almost always deteriorated into a comparison between Frank Longbottom, his father, and himself. A comparison which always found himself on the diminutive side, in almost every manner conceivable. It wasn't long before the young boy realized that he would never be able to live up to the Longbottom name, a fact his grandmother oft reminded him of.

Neville had spent his youth exploring the enormous mansion, often finding out of the way nooks and crannies that hadn't seen a human for many a generation. It was a lonely time for the young boy but he made the best of it, exploring the castle, pretending to slay dragons and imagining that he was as great a wizard as his father had apparently been. There were only a few areas that were off-limits to the boy, being the suite of rooms belonging to his grandmother and a set of rooms on the North side of the mansion. The latter of the two areas was only accessible through a single set of doors, which always remained locked, the key within Augusta Longbottom's possession at all-times via a chain about her neck. There were a handful of occasions when he had spied his grandmother entering the suite of rooms behind the locked doors but he himself had never been in there as yet, despite his many attempts to find ingress to said rooms.

Neville placed an empty pot before him on the workbench and filled it with a mixture of soil, fertilizer and water, just as Madam Sprout had shown him. With the index finger of his right hand he made an indentation in the soil before dropping in a seed. The seed itself was a light brownish color and oval in shape. To the young wizard the seed looked for all the world like an egg. The Mandrake seed was quickly covered by a layer of soil and water was added before the boy set the pot aside with the other dozen or so he had already done. _This is almost like being home_ , Neville thought to himself wistfully, missing the greenhouse at the Longbottom mansion. Thinking of the large greenhouse, with its glass walls, brought to mind the day he had first stepped foot within it.

"Say hello to your Great-Uncle and Great-Aunt, Neville!" Augusta Longbottom snapped at the boy, disappointed that she had to remind the scion of the Longbottom name of his manners yet once again. _It's important that he learns his manners_ , she thought to herself as she glanced out the third floor windows to hide her annoyance. _My Frank was a perfect little gentleman by the time he was Neville's age!_

"H…hello, Uncle, Auntie," stammered the shy and reserved lad. "I hope you are doing well," Neville added, nervous about being within his Gran's presence. Usually he was only called upon if he had done something to displease the elder Longbottom. Today, however, it appeared that his Gran was merely entertaining family. Neville almost let out a silent sigh of relief until he realized just who those relatives were that had come to call upon them this day.

Enid Remington was Augusta Longbottom's sister-in-law, being the sister of the late Mitchem Longbottom, Augusta's husband and Neville's Grandfather. The quiet and shy woman, whose demeanor was much the opposite of the slightly older Longbottom Matriarch, was dressed conservatively but tastefully, while seated within the parlor that Augusta always liked to use when passing the time with family members. "Hello, Dearie," the witch offered with a warm smile, always having possessed a soft spot for her great-nephew who was the spitting image of her brother. "I'm sorry we missed your birthday this year, Neville. I was under the weather, I fear."

"That's alright!" bellowed Algie Remington, Enid's husband, "It was only his eighth birthday. Not like it was a special one or anything…like his eleventh birthday might be." The short, heavy-set wizard with thinning hair eyed the boy as if he were appraising a piece of livestock for purchase. It irked the man that in the eight years of the boy's life Neville had as yet to show any signs of magical abilities. Many within the family suspected that the poor boy might even be a squib!

Algie had taken it upon himself to ' _force some magic_ ' out of the lad. The wizard silently contemplated to himself if sufficient time or not had passed since he had pushed the boy off of Blackpool Pier, nearly drowning Neville in the process. _If only his magic had shown itself_ , Algie lamented as he recalled the event, _it wouldn't have been that big of a deal_. _Best wait a bit longer before trying anything again_ , he finally decided after further deliberation, remembering the tongue lashing he had received from both Augusta and Enid after that disastrous incident.

"Please give it a rest, Algie," Enid chided her husband. "I'm certain that Neville will be a fine wizard when the time comes," she said with a reassuring smile towards the lad she was speaking of. "The best things in life sometimes take a little extra time to create. That's what makes them so special," she added only to be rewarded by a small shy thankful smile from Neville.

"It's just not natural," Algie responded gruffly. "A lad, especially one who is the scion of the Longbottom name, should have shown signs before now," the wizard maintained staunchly. "Our Wilbur was giving us fits before he could even write his name!"

"That will be all, Neville," Augusta interjected before her brother-in-law could gather steam for one of his infamous tirades on just how much a disappointment her grandson was. "You'd best run along now." _It's not as if I don't know Neville isn't living up to the Longbottom name after all_ , Augusta thought to herself, _I just don't need to be reminded of it every time Enid and her husband visit!_

"Yes, Gran," Neville responded with quickly, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. Turning, the boy walked to the door, pausing only upon hearing his grandmother's voice behind him.

"Neville, please be sure to be on time for the evening meal. I do not want to have to send one of the house elves to fetch you once again," Augusta warned him sternly.

Neville turned back and gave a slight nod, one hand still upon the door handle. "Yes, Gran," he told her. As Neville opened the door and stepped through it he could hear his grandmother behind him.

"Really, Algie? It's not Neville's fault that he's nothing like my Frank was," Augusta stated reproachfully. "If we're fortunate, he may at least be the equivalent of his mother, the poor dear."

"I can always go after him and," Algie's voice paused as he made a gesture, "give him a nudge and all," the elder wizard offered helpfully.

Whatever else Neville's great-uncle said or what his Gran's reply may have been was lost as the door closed and the frightened youth sped down several adjacent hallways before quickly ducking into an unused bedroom. Spying a large wardrobe, Neville quickly crossed to it and climbed inside, moving to the back of it after closing the door. The boy was frightened that his great-uncle might try drowning him once again or something as equally dangerous as well as life threatening. As Neville leaned against the back of the wardrobe there was a sound of a _click_ and he suddenly found himself falling backwards only to land painfully upon his bum.

Neville froze in panic as he sat in the total darkness around him. Finally, gathering his courage, the young boy reached out and felt about himself in an attempt to determine where he might be. It wasn't long before he realized that he was in some sort of tunnel or passageway. His exploring hands, reaching to where he had fallen from, only encountered a stone surface. Swallowing heavily he mustered his courage and shakily climbed to his feet.

"Well, now what?" Neville asked himself softly, his voice seeming overly loud in the darkness. The boy thought of calling for help but realized that it might be his great uncle Algie that came to his rescue. _That might make matters worse_ , Neville thought to himself fearfully. Turning towards his left the young scion slowly started making his way down the passageway with one hand before him and the other trailing along the wall. Neville's caution soon paid off when he stepped forward only to have his foot encounter nothing but air. A desperate grab as he fell forward found him holding onto a handrails that was attached to the wall.

Neville slowly eased himself down the stairs, testing each one carefully before placing any substantial amount of weight upon it. The wizard-to-be's heart thumped so loudly within his chest that Neville was certain the entire house could hear it. Just how long it took to reach the bottom of the stairs the youth was uncertain of but it felt like an eternity. Neville felt along the smooth wall beneath his tiny hand and was surprised to locate a handle. It took several hard tugs to get the door to open put the young heir managed it. Stepping through the new doorway, Neville found himself in one of the many bedrooms within the mansion. Behind him the door closed on its own accord, vanishing into the wall as if it had never existed.

"I wonder which set of rooms these are?" Neville asked himself as he glanced about at the unfamiliar room and its furnishings. Whichever it was it appeared to not have been used in some time. Even the drapes had been closed, adding to the semi-darkness of the room. Crossing to the thick fabric he pulled it aside, opening the curtains and allowing a flood of light to enter the room. Behind the curtain was no ordinary window though.

Neville squinted against the later afternoon sunlight that flooded the room. Behind the thick velvety curtains were windows that ran from floor to the ceiling, which accounted for the extra amount of sunlight seeping into the bedroom. Never let it be said that the then lad of eight years did not possess a strong sense of curiosity. It was only moments before Neville had the curtains pulled back as far as they could go. What he found was something he would never have expected to be there, especially having played all around the outside of the mansion and never having seen this before.

Neville stared in wonder at the wall of glass before him that had been hidden behind the drapes. Through the translucent panes of silicon the lad could make out the shapes of plant boxes, pots and workbenches. Like a moth drawn to a flame the boy of eight quickly moved towards the door and, upon opening it, stepped through into the other world of the greenhouse. "I wonder why I've never seen this from the outside." Neville mumbled aloud absently, suspecting that magic was perhaps involved in some manner.

The rich scent of soil, vegetation and fragrant flowers assaulted his olfactory senses. All about him were exotic plants, many of which he had never seen before. It appeared that one side of the greenhouse was nothing but flowers, offering a near prismatic array of colors for his eyes and an overwhelming flood of sweet fragrances for his nose. The other side of the room was filled with plants of every shape and size. Some of them even seemed to move on their own accord as if they were alive in some manner other than how normal plants ought to be. There were small plants, big ones, as well as ones with vines and some that looked like small trees even.

The young boy, over the course of the next several hours, lost himself within the sights and smells of the greenhouse. _I can't believe that something as amazing as this was here all along and I knew nothing of it_ , Neville thought to himself. The lad's over-active mind was already conjuring up images of wading through exotic jungles while fighting dark wizards, like he suspected his father had done. The young scion's imaginary battle came to an abrupt halt at the sound of a small _POP_ right in front of him. "Nitzy?" Neville enquired with a surprised expression as he regarded the house elf.

"Nitzy's come to fetch young Master, she has," the house elf replied with a happy smile, glad to be of service to her family. Suddenly the elf's bulbous eyes grew even larger as she took note of where they were. "Young Master, ought not to be here!" Nitzy exclaimed as she started to wring her hands nervously. "This is bad! Very, very bad!" the frightened elf said before reaching out and grasping Neville's hand, taking it within her own. There was a moment of slight disorientation before Neville once again found himself within the upstairs parlor.

"There you are!" Augusta's voice barked upon seeing Nitzy arrive with Neville in tow. "Must I always send Nitzy to fetch you? I would hope that you would possess a better sense of time like your father did at your age!" Spying the house elf hastily release Neville's hand only to start wringing hers before her, the Longbottom Matriarch knew that something was agitating the diminutive elf. "Nitzy, whatever is the matter?" Augusta enquired with a note of concern, her grandson momentarily forgotten.

"Nitzy knows nothing! No she does not," the house elf replied with drooping ears, her eyes darting about the room to look at anything other than the woman speaking to her. "Nitzy did her best. She warded the door, just as Madam requested. Mustn't let the young Master in Nitzy was told." The elf's uncharacteristic display of fear caught the attention of all three adults currently present. "Nitzy is sorry Madam Longbottom and will accept her punishment, even if she is to accept…cl…clothing," the small elf added with a shudder around the large lump in her throat.

Augusta sat with her mouth agape, a most unusual pose for one as dignified as the elder Longbottom. "Whatever are you on about, Nitzy? You know good and well that we are not in the habit of punishing our house elves." Try as she might, Augusta couldn't fathom anything that could have upset Nitzy as much as the elf apparently was at the moment. _She looks like she's about to inflict physical harm upon herself_ , Augusta thought to herself. _As if I would allow her to do such a thing. We're the Longbottom's after all, not the Malfoys!_ "Perhaps if you tell me what happened, dear?"

Neville had remained silent during the exchange between his Gran and Nitzy. For the most part he was as flummoxed as the rest of them as to the reason for the house elf's distress. When Nitzy mentioned wards and keeping him out he soon realized what was happening. Gathering every scrap of courage that his eight years could offer the boy stepped forward. "It was me, Gran," he stated boldly, squaring his shoulders to take whatever was coming for his transgression. "Nitzy had nothing to do with it."

Augusta's grey eyes darted to her grandson even as her ears heard a tone in Neville's voice that she had never heard before, defiance. "What, pray tell, manner of mischief have you gotten up to that could upset Nitzy so greatly?"

Neville swallowed audibly before replying, "I found my parents rooms and the greenhouse connected to them!" he declared boldly, the tip of his chin jutting out slightly as he spoke. _It's alright if Gran punishes me,_ the boy thought to himself _. It wasn't Nitzy's fault that I was there._ "Nitzy found me there when you sent her to fetch me."

"I see," Augusta said into the shocked silence that permeated the room after the boy's disclosure. "Were you not specifically told never to enter that room?" the Matriarch enquired in a tone of voice that was filled with disappointment. _There are any number of plants in there that could harm Neville. It is for his own safety that he not be allowed in there_.

Neville's eyes dropped to the floor. The young boy greatly hated to disappoint his grandmother. The elder lady was his only real family and perhaps the one tie he had to his parents, of which he knew so little. _No matter what I do I always seem to upset Gran. I may not be my father but if I work hard then maybe one day Gran will be proud of me too._ "Yes, Ma`am," Neville replied softly.

"I see then," Augusta continued upon hearing his reply, her voice low and sad. "So you just decided to disregard my words and do whatever you pleased? Is that how it is?"

"No Ma`am," Neville hastily replied. "That's not how it was at all."

"Then how was it, boy?" Algie bellowed as he grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and gave him several shakes.

"Algie, please," Augusta stated, her eyes momentarily shifting towards the older man before returning to her grandson. "Perhaps you'd care to tell me then, Neville, just how it was?"

"It…it was an accident," Neville stammered, overly aware of the hand firmly grasping him by the nap of his neck.

"You just accidently wound up in your parent's room and then wandered into their greenhouse?" Augusta enquired with a heavy note of disbelief in her tone. Seeing the young boy nod she sighed heavily. _Honestly, is that the best he can come up with? For a moment there I thought I say a bit of my Franks' backbone in him._ "You are never ever to step foot in there again! Do I make myself clear?" Augusta asked in a stern tone. "What's that?" the Longbottom Matriarch asked upon hearing the boy mumble a reply which she couldn't understand.

Neville mumbled an incoherent response, his mind replaying what his Gran had just said. _It's their greenhouse!_ Neville replayed his Gran's words once again, _she called it 'their greenhouse'_. _It must be Mum and Dad's!_ If he lived to be two hundred, Neville was certain he would never figure out why he did it. The boy suddenly felt an anger welling up inside of him and before he could stop them the words just seemed to leap from his lips.

Neville's head snapped up, his eyes ablaze with young righteous anger and frustration. "Why should I? They're my parents! I want to know everything about them! I know next to nothing of them, not even what they looked like! What right have you to keep them from me? You're just being selfish and keeping them all to yourself!" Neville yelled as tears of pent up frustration and longing trickling down his pale cheeks as he body shook with the anger it failed to contained.

Augusta's mind froze upon hearing the boy's outburst. _Frank?_ The elder witch, for a moment, was drawn back in time when her son had told her that he was marrying Alice and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. _My Mitchem was the same way, which is no doubt where our Frank got his stubbornness from_ , she thought silently to herself. _Neville is more like his father and grandfather than I thought_ , Augusta realized, the thought warming her heart with joy.

"Why you impertinent little brat!" Algie exclaimed as he tightened his hold upon the boy and shook him furiously before bragging him towards the nearby window. "You've been far too lax with him Augusta," the wizard called over his shoulder at his seemingly stunned sister-in-law as he drew his wand and with a flick opened the windows. In the blink of an eye Neville found himself dangling out the window by his ankles. "Perhaps if we drop him on his head it will knock some sense into him," Algie stated as he looked at the now screaming youth.

"Algie! You unhand that boy!" Enid directed her husband crossly. "Come finish your meringue and tea before it grows cold."

"Dreadful!" Algie exclaimed as he turned to regard his wife. The very thought of drinking cold tea was very displeasing. The loud piercing wail of Neville as he fell, having been release by his great uncle when the wizard turn to regard his wife, silenced all conversation within the room. "Oh dear," Algie said aloud as the color drained from his face, fearful that he had once again messed up where his great nephew was concerned and perhaps had actually managed to kill the boy this time.

Augusta and Enid quickly ran to the window and were just placing their heads through it when Neville's screams drew nearer. To the astonishment of all three adults, as well as Neville himself, he suddenly popped up into view before dropping once again. The two women leaned out the window and watched as the boy reached the ground and bounced back up. Twice more the frightened youth popped up before drifting away to finally settle with a wet splash into the pond in the back yard.

Algie cleared his throat as the two woman turned to glare at him angrily. "Knew he had it in him all the time!" the frightened wizard declared with a nervous tremor in his voice.

Later that same evening Augusta Longbottom sat Neville down. She had realized that Neville hadn't been far from the mark with his accusations. She was so afraid of losing Frank and Alice that she had kept them all to herself. That night was the night she told Neville all about his parents and what had happened to them. Augusta explained that there were dangerous plants in the greenhouse which is why she didn't want him to go in there. Botany was a Longbottom specialty it seemed. Neville agreed to not enter the greenhouse without Nitzy or his Grandmother with him and Augusta agreed to teach him all about the plants in there. The next day they went to St. Mungo so that Neville could visit his parents for the first time.

_It's funny how things work out_ , Neville thought to himself as he finished the last of the pots and sat it next to the others. _Uncle Algie nearly killed me twice, but in the end his actions lead to not only my accidental magic, but more importantly coming to know who my parents are._ The first year student cleaned up the workbench and returned the tools to where he had found them. _I'm rather proud of my parents, just as Gran is. I still hope that one day I'll be able to do something to make Gran just as proud of me as she is of them._

Neville surveyed the greenhouse one last time to make certain all was in order. The young boy crossed to the door and opened it only to be surprised. The storm that had been raining continually since this morning seemed to have let up finally. Stepping from the security of the greenhouse Neville started for the main entrance of the castle. Glancing up the wizard saw that the clouds were finally dispersing and the last rays of sun were beginning to break through.

As it was near the time for the evening meal Neville headed for the castle and Gryffindor tower to wash up. After the change of robes and a thorough cleansing of his hands the boy set out for the great hall. As he approached the open doors to his destination he froze upon hearing his name spoken behind him. Turning about to see who it was the Gryffindor's eyes grew large in disbelief for it was one of the last person he would have expected it to be. _What's he want with me?_ Neville thought as he waited for the other boy, who was wearing Slytherin House colors, to approach him.

**-oOo-**

Daphne adjusted the shoulder strap to her book bag as she ascended the stairs from the Dungeon, her best friend beside her. It was the appearance of the young Malfoy scion, with his paired bookends Crabbe and Goyle, which had driven the two first year students from the dungeons. The best friends had been seated at one of the many tables within the Slytherin common room, so that they might work on their homework, when the trio had sauntered over and attempted to start a conversation with them.

Most of the rest of their housemates were similarly working on school assignments as the inhospitable weather outside didn't leave them with many options when it came to occupying their time. The few who had braved the deluge of rain had quickly returned drenched to the bone when their water repellant charms had worn off. The round of laughter, jeering and finger pointing quickly dissuaded others from attempting the same feat. It was far better to remain inside where it was dry and considerably less humiliating. Despite the weather, the Slytherin Quidditch team still held their daily practice session, which accounted for the absence of a certain bespectacled wizard normally found in the company of the two first year witches.

The young girls paused at the top of the stairs, trying to decide where to go. "I'll wager that Hermione is already in the library and has been for some time," Daphne said to her best friend next to her who simply gave a nod in agreement, seemingly lost in thought. The two of them set off towards the grand stairway and the third floor. _I wonder if Granger started on her report on the Bouncing Bulb for Herbology yet or not_ , Daphne mused as they worked their way up the shifting flight of stairs. _It would be just like her to get a jump on the rest of us_ , Daphne thought to herself with a small mile. _Wish I had thought of it first! Next time Granger!_

Thought of the bushy-haired brunette called to Tracey's mind the young witch's suspicious behavior over the past few weeks. _There's definitely something going on with her_ , the auburn–haired witch thought silently to herself. When she had previously mentioned her speculations to the others they had listened, but were at a loss for what to do just as she was. Harry had surprisingly suggested that they give her some time and space. Not knowing what other action they should take, all they could do was watch, wait and worry about their friend.

Daphne frowned as she waited for the finicky stairs to connect to the second floor landing. "Whatever shall we do about her, Tracey?" Tracey, apparently, wasn't the only one that had noticed their friend's unusual behavior.

"That does seem to be the question," Tracey replied, knowing just whom the blonde next to her was speaking of. The two of them had been friends since they were very small and hence almost knew what the other was going to say before they said it at times. The concern for Hermione had all started several weeks back with a missed study session in the library and had escalated since then. "Hermione missing a study session is nothing; we've all done that before."

"Yes," Daphne agreed as she watched the stairs continue to adjust and shift about above them. "But to miss three in a row is a bit excessive, isn't it?" Daphne stated as she recalled that their friend had said it was due to House duties. Being in Slytherin House she had no basis to disbelieve the Gryff, yet something just felt _off_ to the young witch. _I doubt very much that our house is the same as theirs_ , Daphne reasoned. _If anything I would wager that they are as opposite as can be. Far be it from a Pure-blood centric house such as Slytherin to want to be anything like the other houses._

"If it were only the missed meetings in the library," Tracey continued with as they ascended the stairs to the second floor. "I couldn't believe Hermione stopped sitting with us in classes as well!" This was a rather new development, having just started the past week. Where Hermione used to take the seat directly next to Harry, she was now more often than not found seated next to the youngest Weasley boy.

"It's like she's avoiding us," Daphne added, her brow creased in thought. _When she is with us though it's like nothing has changed at all._ Hermione's behavior and her apparent desire to not be with them confused the young girl to no end. "I just don't understand it."

"She told Harry that Weasley was doing rather terrible in his classes and she was sitting with him to straighten him out and bring his marks up," Tracey offered. "If you ask me I think she's doing it to keep him from costing Gryffindor any additional points." They both recalled Professor Snape's angry outburst at the frightened red-head, as well as the ten point deduction the Potions Master had handed out to the youngest Weasley Friday during class.

"Well, we can't fault her for that, now can we?" Daphne stated wistfully as the two of them moved on to the next section of stairs which had just then become aligned. Truth be told she missed the other girl's presence. _Blaise is always good for a laugh and Harry…well Harry is just Harry_ , she thought as a warmth spread within her chest as it had started to do of late whenever she thought of the dark-haired wizard. _I miss having another girl around I guess._ Daphne snorted slightly in humor, realizing just how funny it was for a Slytherin to be missing the presence of a Gryffindor.

"What's so funny?" Tracey asked as she turned her head and regarded her friend.

"I was just thinking what a funny group we make," Daphne replied, not wanting to state exactly what she was thinking as it was a little embarrassing to admit and she worried it might hurt her friends feelings. For as long as she could remember it had just been the two of them as friends, with Astoria tagging along when they allowed her to. Suddenly Daphne found herself having another friend that was a girl and worried what Tracey would feel if she knew she missed Hermione. "I can't help but wonder if we'll be adding a Puff and a Claw next to our group of Outsiders." Daphne stated with a forced smile that nonetheless brightened her face.

Tracey grinned, finding her friend's smile infectious. "Got your eye on perspective candidates already, do you, Greengrass?" Tracey teased, giving the other girl's shoulder a playful nudge. School was all about making connections with others. The contacts made at Hogwarts would follow you through to adulthood, it was believed. In no other House was this more well-known and cultivated than in Slytherin. _The Muggles call it Networking_ , Tracey recalled, not entirely sure what that meant or was in reference to.

"None that come to mind," Daphne replied, realizing that was actually the truth. While she knew there were just as many Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first year students as there were Slytherin students, now that she thought about it, none of them from the other houses came to mind. _There has to be at least one or two who are noteworthy_ , she contemplated to herself.

"And you call yourself a pureblood Slytherin!" Tracey snorted in amusement. The half-blood witch decided not to mention that fact that they both had already made perhaps the best contact that anyone could, The-Boy-Who-Lived. The fact that Harry was who he was really didn't matter to the young witch so much as the fact that he was her friend.

Daphne tossed her blonde strands over one shoulder in an exaggerated haughty fashion. "I call myself an Outsider! Please remember that from now on, little girl," she replied in a snobbish tone of voice. A moment later both girls broke down into squeals of laughter, stumbling from the stairway onto the third floor of the castle.

By the time they reached the doors to the library they were both still giggling, though softly enough not to draw the ire of Madam Pince, the school's Head Librarian. In short order they arrived at the table usually used by the Outsiders only to discover they had been wrong in their assumption. There was no sign of their friend from the house of red and gold. A quick survey of the surrounding area did not turn the young witch up so they settled at their usual table and began to work on the arduous task of their latest transfiguration report for Professor McGonagall.

"Perhaps she just had a lie in," Tracey offered as she dipped the tip of her quill in the Ever-fill ink well they were sharing. They had been working in silence for some time now but had mutually paused to dip their quills. "A bit under the weather is all."

Daphne gave a short snort of disbelief before replying, "And perhaps the sun won't rise tomorrow. I'd believe that more likely than Granger missing a chance to revise, even if she wasn't feeling her best."

"Given the weather outside, you may not be too far off," Tracey countered with a slight grin. Outside there was a flash of lightening followed by the roll of thunder, as if to give credence to her words. "She has been missing a great many sessions with us of late," Tracey added in a thoughtful voice, not liking the fact of their friend's absence.

"It's almost as if something is keeping her away from being with us," Daphne replied. _Something or someone_ , the young witch thought to herself though she couldn't at first conjure up a reason for that to happen. _It can't be because she's a Gryffindor and we're Slytherin…can it? It's not as if which house we're in will matter once we've graduated._ Being raised by loving parents with open minds, regardless of the fact that they were pure-blood themselves, Daphne had very little experience with the prejudice tendencies of others, hence the thought that it might be because Hermione was a Muggle-born witch never entered her mind.

"With all the Gryffindor house chores she's been doing of late it is no wonder she hasn't been able to join us," Tracey offered. "I tell you, I don't fancy being her…or any Gryff for that matter, if they make everyone in that house be so diligent! House of the Brave? Sounds more like the House of Menial Labor if you ask me," Tracey stated with a humorless snort. "It's a wonder she even has time to complete all her assignments!"

Daphne's eyes suddenly grew larger at hearing her friend's words. "It is a wonder!" the blonde witch exclaimed. "Just how and when is she finding the time to do her assignments? It certainly isn't here with us!" _Granger hasn't been falling behind in classes either so she must be doing the work at some point!_

Further speculation on the bushy-haired witch was curtailed upon hearing the last voice either wished to hear at that moment. "See Crabbe," Draco's refined voice said from behind the seated girls, "I told you that they would be here. This is where those who are smart come to do their homework."

"I don't think I've ever been in the library before," Crabbe replied, looking about at all the books and thusly missing the pointed look the young Malfoy point shot him.

"Funny, Draco," Tracey was quick to pipe up with, "I think this is the first time I've seen you in here as well."

Draco's smile slipped slightly at Tracey's words, however the innocent smile on the girl's face made it difficult to tell if she was having a go at him or not. "Yes, well, some of us are intelligent enough to not even need to come here at all," Draco replied after a long awkward moment. The witch's answering smirk left little doubt to the young wizard as to what she thought of him or his intelligence. The young Pure-blood wizard bit back an angry retort in an attempt to gain favor with the Greengrass girl.

"Daphne, didn't you say that Madam Pomfrey was expecting you," Tracey enquired as she turned to regard her friend. _At least I can get you away from the arrogant brat_ , Tracey thought to herself as Daphne gave her an appreciative look. _You owe me one, girlie. I'll just add it to the list_ , Tracey mentally chuckled to herself.

"Yes, that is correct. Thanks for reminding me Tracey," Daphne said as she gathered her things and packed them away rather quickly. "I better not keep her waiting," the first year witch offered as she stood and slung her book bag over one shoulder. "She gets dreadfully cross if I'm not there on time."

"You're leaving already?" Draco enquired, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face. The pale boy had thought that he would finally have a chance to have a normal conversation with the blonde witch. More and more it seemed to Draco that the girl was avoiding him for some reason which he couldn't fathom. _Doesn't she realize I'm a Malfoy? She should be delighted that I've taken an interest in her!_

"Unless you'd care to explain to Madam Pomfrey why I wasn't there on time?" Daphne asked, only to see all three boys pale at the prospect of having to do so. "I thought not," Daphne said with a slightly smug look. "I'll see you at the evening meal, Tracey," Daphne told her friend before turning and striding purposefully away as quickly as she could without actually running or giving the impression that she was fleeing.

Once free of the library, Daphne realized that she still actually needed to complete her assignments. _I seriously doubt Professor McGonagall will accept Malfoy following me about as an excuse for not having her report completed on time._ Returning to the Slytherin common room wasn't an option as the Malfoy scion may very well go back there she realized. With a resigned sigh she headed down the stairs to the first floor and the Hospital wing of Hogwarts.

**-oOo-**

Poppy Pomfrey frowned. It wasn't all together unusual for the Head Mediwitch of Hogwarts to frown. If asked, the staff and students would be hard pressed to find anyone who had come under the Mediwitch's care, who hadn't been frowned at. Some, like the Weasley twins, even elicited the occasional scowl as well to drive home the witch's mandates. It took a firm, hard-nosed witch to care for all the people within the school after all. On this day though it was neither student nor faculty member that was recipient of the elder witch's frowning countenance, but rather a bit of parchment.

"It just doesn't make sense," Poppy spoke aloud to herself, a habit that she found herself doing with more frequency as the years passed. "I'm certain that it was the right dosage. It just doesn't make sense," she said once again as she let the report she had read for the fifth time drop to the desktop before her.

"What doesn't make sense, Poppy?" enquired a cheerful voice from the office doorway. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

Poppy glanced up, a smile slowly spreading over her troubled features. "Aurora! What a surprise. Do come in," the Mediwitch instructed as she gestured with one hand for the Astronomy Professor to come in. "I could use a bit of distraction. What brings you to my office? Not ill are you? Running short on your monthly, Dear?"

The young Professor smiled warmly as she entered and took a seat near the Mediwitch's desk. "No, no. I haven't run short since you first taught me how to brew it," Aurora Sinistra replied. "I wouldn't be caught dead without a few extra bottles, just in case."

"No cramps or bloating and next to no bleeding aren't the only advantages," Poppy said with a grin, thinking of how the potion also stabilized a witch's emotions and chemical balance as well. "Could you imagine how it would be here if none of the young witches in my care had the stuff?" she asked with a roll of her eyes. "The male population would be decimated within the first month alone!"

The two witches chuckled merrily at the thought of what would happen if such a thing occurred. For a while the two exchanged pleasantries with one another, catching up on what they had done over the summer as well as sharing the latest gossip to be had at the Three Broomsticks. Poppy, much like most of the staff at Hogwarts, liked the young dark skinned professor. She could clearly remember back when Aurora was a student at Hogwarts and had assisted her with brewing potions in the back room. It seemed just like yesterday to the matronly Mediwitch. _At times it's still hard to not think of her as that same young girl who had a million and one questions_ , Poppy mused sentimentally to herself.

"So, Poppy," Sinistra asked when there was finally a pause in their conversation, "What is it that has you so perplexed? Perhaps I can help." Aurora had always enjoyed the company of the older woman, even when she was a student herself. She knew that behind the stern exterior of the Mediwitch there beat a heart of gold that cared greatly for all the children that were entrusted into her care. For some students, such as herself, the Mediwitch had taken on the role of surrogate mother during the long school years at Hogwarts.

Poppy paused and pondered the matter for a moment before replying. "What do you know of Mr. Potter?" she finally asked.

"Mostly just what the Headmaster has told us," Aurora replied with a slight shrug. "He lives with his Aunt and Uncle in the non-magical world so that he can have a normal childhood. But….," the dark skinned woman paused, only continuing after receiving a slight nod from the Mediwitch with her. "I would guess that he hasn't had the best of it, though."

"What would make you think that?" Poppy asked, curious as to the other woman's thoughts on the boy. Poppy recalled that Aurora Sinistra had always been very adept at reading other people and seeing things that others didn't. _Perhaps it comes from staring at all those stars every night? She's always had an uncanny insight into others._

"Where to begin?" Aurora asked aloud to herself as her eyes dropped to her lap while she gathered her thoughts. "He's excessively small for his age. Something has certainly stunted his growth. It's almost as if he was undernourished while growing up. Perhaps some genetic trait that the Muggle doctors are always coming up with?" Sinistra glanced up only to continue when she did not receive a confirmation from the medical professional seat with her.

"From what I have seen, Harry is socially awkward. It's not just that he's shy but rather like he isn't used to interacting with other people," Aurora continued to explain. "Certainly not large groups of them at least. I would say that he's lived a sheltered life, which could be what the Headmaster meant to happen by sending him to live in the non-magical world, but I feel it is more than that. Something is just…off, I guess is the best way to put it," Aurora concluded with, wishing she could find the right words to explain it.

"The Headmaster also noticed that Mr. Potter was smaller than the other boys his age and it concerned him greatly," Poppy confided in her fellow professor. "We started Mr. Potter on a potion regiment that was designed to not only improve his health but also to assist him for the growth he has apparently missed." Poppy frowned as she once again thought of the scroll and the results she had been reading upon it. "The results have been less than satisfactory, shall we say."

"Maybe the formula is off on the potion," Aurora offered as a possibility.

"No," Poppy tsked with a shake of her head. "I wish it were that simple. I designed it and brewed it myself. Given his size, age and weight he should be much further along in his development than he currently is." Madam Pomfrey's frown deepened into a scowl as she tried to puzzle out the answer to the riddle she had been presented in the form of one Harry Potter. "I just don't understand it."

"Has he mentioned any headaches?" Aurora enquired only to receive a shake from the Mediwitch's head. "Well at least then the eye glasses helped in that regard. I still don't know how he was even managing to read at all with his old lenses."

Further conversation was halted by the soft clearing of a throat near the office door. "You're talking about Harry, aren't you?" The young witch tried not to fidgets under the stares of both Professors but was finding it increasingly hard as the silence stretched on for several long moments. "Harry isn't getting better, is he?" Daphne asked, believing she already knew the answer to her question just from what she had overheard.

"It is an unattractive habit to listen in on the conversations of others, Ms. Greengrass," Madam Pomfrey scolded with a small frown even though she could clearly hear the note of concern in the girl's tone. _I wonder just how much she heard._ "How long were you standing there?"

"Harry's my friend!" Daphne declared earnestly. "I just want to help him if I can. He's already suffered enough," the blonde witch added in a softer tone of voice, mentally kicking herself for saying so much. She wasn't certain just how the older witches would react if they leaned what she knew. _Then again, maybe that is exactly what it will take?_

"I'm certain you do, Ms. Greengrass," Aurora offered in a gentler tone than the Mediwitch had used. "Your desire to help your friend is commendable and says a great deal about you as well. I'm sure Harry would be delighted to know that he has such a friend as yourself, however, it would be best to allow Madam Pomfrey to handle this matter. She is Hogwarts' Mediwitch after all."

"I…I know about his…," the young girl paused for a moment as if searching for the best word to use before she continued, "Condition," she finally settled on. "I know about Harry's condition," she reiterated for good measure.

"Condition?" Aurora asked, confused as to the girl's meaning. As the Astrology Professor looked towards the Mediwitch, Poppy gave her a look that said she would explain latter.

"Ms. Greengrass, it is admirable that you want to help your friend, as Professor Sinistra stated," Poppy said, turning to regard the girl once again. "I'm not sure what you know or think you might know concerning Mr. Potter-"

"I overheard you speaking with Professor Dumbledore," Daphne confessed in a rush. "I know all about it and have for some time now. Please, I want to help Harry! He's my friend," she added plaintively.

"Does Harry know this?" Aurora asked gently, even though she wasn't certain just what _this_ could be. The young professor trusted in her friend, and mentor, to fill her in later.

"No," Daphne replied with a shake of her head. "Please don't tell him that I know! Please!" the young witch pleaded.

"Doesn't he have the right to know?" Poppy countered with, one brow lifting in question. Always the practical witch, she realized there was little that could be done now if the girl truly knew of Harry's abuse. _Short of a memory charm there isn't much we can do now._ The fact that Daphne had known all this time and not said anything to anyone spoke in the girl's favor.

"Yes. No. I don't know!" Daphne replied anxiously, at a loss for what to say or do.

"Why don't you want Harry to know?" Aurora requested of the clearly distraught first year student.

"Well," Daphne started with before pausing to moisten her suddenly dry lips, "if I had a… _condition_ , like Harry does, I think I might find it rather embarrassing to have others know of it." Daphne saw the dark skinned Astrology Professor give a slight nod in agreement. "Also, I discovered Harry's _condition_ on accident. It wasn't my intent to overhear what you reported to the Headmaster, Madam Pomfrey. I would rather that Harry tell me himself, in his own time and way, when he wants me to know."

"She is rather close with Harry," Sinistra informed Poppy, thinking of her favorite group of first year students. "It might be a good thing to have her on our side."

"Our side?" Poppy asked with a small chuckle as she eyed her former assistant.

"I _am_ on Harry's side!" Daphne declared a tad louder than she had intended to. "I'll always be on his side, he's my friend after all!"

"As are we, Ms. Greengrass. As are we," Poppy assured the young girl in a soothing voice, far different from the one she had used perviously. "We only want to help him get better, I assure you. I had hoped that he would have progressed further than he currently has though," Poppy confided in a disappointed tone of voice. "At this rate we may have to continue the process on into his second year."

"Does this have anything to do with his night treatments," Daphne asked, suspecting that it did. The young witch had taken to staying with Harry in the hospital wing every evening he had to drink his potion, at least until the young wizard fell asleep or just before curfew. Harry had informed Madam Pomfrey that he had difficulty falling asleep unless Daphne was there with him. Though she hated to see her friend in pain, Daphne did what she could for Harry, allowing him to lay with his head in her lap as she ran her fingers through his dark strands. Truthfully the young witch enjoyed the time spent as such, though she would die before admitting it to anyone due to it being far too embarrassing.

Madam Pomfrey gave an affirmative nod after a moment's pause and then began to explain in greater detail what the treatment was for. While the Mediwitch was speaking Daphne took the seat next to Professor Sinistra, who had motioned her over and indicated she should be seated rather than stand in the doorway. The young witch dropped her book bag next to the chair absently as she listened to the Mediwitch explain the properties of the potion.

Daphne thought for several long moments. Everything that Madam Pomfrey had said made perfect sense to the overly bright witch. If the potion calculations were correct then there was no clear reason for it not to produce the desired results. _We have to be overlooking something. Mommy always says that it is the simplest of things that usually trips us up the most._ Daphne thought of Harry and tried to figure out what they could have missed.

"What can you tell us of Mr. Potter?" Poppy asked the young girl. "From what Professor Sinistra says, the two of you are close."

Daphne, for some reason she wasn't sure of, felt her cheeks blush slightly at the implications of the older witch's words. "We….we're housemates after all," she stammered as she replied. "We have the same classes and study together in the library with several others."

"What's his daily routine like?" Aurora enquired, trying to hide the smile she wanted to let out upon seeing the girl blush.

"Well," Daphne said, as her brow creased in concentration, "He has breakfast and then classes of course. Another apple for lunch and then more classes. After that he's usually fairly busy with Quidditch practice till the evening meal. After that we all go to the library to do our assignments," the Slytherin witch concluded with, looking up hopefully that something she had said might be able to help the Mediwitch as well as Harry.

Poppy frowned. "He has another apple for lunch?" she asked for confirmation.

Daphne nodded. "One for breakfast as well," she offered, wondering what bearing that could have on the issue at hand.

"What does he usually eat for dinner?" Aurora asked, seeing just where the Mediwitch was going with her question.

"I'm not sure," Daphne confessed. "We don't usually sit together at meal times."

Poppy arched a brow in question. "You're housemates and have classes together, you do revision together and yet you don't sit together when you eat? Why is that?" Seeing the young witch give a slight shrug, the Mediwitch absently waved away her own question. "Regardless, I think I know why the results have been so dismal."

"He's not eating correctly?" Aurora hazard as a guess.

"Correct." Poppy replied. Upon seeing the questioning look upon Daphne's face the Mediwitch went on to explain. "Your body is a machine, as the Muggles like to say. As such it needs a constant source of nourishment to keep it working correctly. The food you eat provides the appropriate energy your body needs to run at its best. Our Mr. Potter isn't eating nearly enough," Poppy said disapprovingly.

"I'll wager what energy he does gain from the little food he eats is used up on Quidditch and his school work as well as spell practice," Aurora added.

"So when it comes to Harry's treatments," Daphne said, suddenly grasping what the older witches were getting at, "his body doesn't have the sufficient amount of energy required by the potion to obtain the results Madam Pomfrey is expecting."

"I see you are your mother's daughter," Poppy said with a warm smile. "Abigail was a very bright witch as well, Ms. Greengrass," the Mediwitch added only to see the girl blush at the compliment. "Well, now that we know what the issue is I shall speak to Mr. Potter and set up a dietary plan for him to follow. A growing boy cannot live on apples alone!" Poppy declared, eliciting a chuckle from the other two present.

"Well, I had best be on my way," Professor Sinistra said as she stood. "Those parchments aren't going to grade themselves. You'll let me know if there is anything I can do to help with Harry, Poppy?" the young professor asked, while giving the Mediwitch a look that said she would expect a full explanation of the situation later.

"Of course, Aurora," Poppy replied with a warm smile to answer both the asked question as well as the one not spoken. Once the Astronomy Professor had left Madam Pomfrey turned to regard the remaining witch. "So what brings you to my office, Ms. Greengrass? I'm certain it wasn't to listen in on conversations at my door step."

Daphne had the good grace to be embarrassed. "I…I came so that I could work on my assignments," the blushing witch stammered in way of reply.

"I see," Poppy replied. "Perhaps you'd care to assist me with something first?" the Mediwitch enquired. After receiving a nod of agreement, Poppy lead the first year student to the back room, which was where she brewed potions to replenish her continually dwindling stock. After explaining what assistance she expected of Daphne the Mediwitch turned and walked to the desk in the corner. Once seated the elder witch began reading over several parchments that were there awaiting her attention.

Daphne gathered the diced ingredients and set them aside to be measure later. She had been at her assigned task for nearly an hour now. Outside the rain hammered against the large glass windows of the hospital wing. Flashes of lightening and the low grumblings of the resulting thunder had been a continual backdrop to the sound of the paring knife in her hand as it worked to prepare the potion ingredients. Sliding the next bit of dried Valerian sprigs over, the young witch set to work on them.

_Perhaps this is payment for coming here and doing my studies_ , Daphne thought to herself. _If it is then it is certainly worth it._ The bright witch glanced over towards the desk in the corner where Madam Pomfrey currently sat going over reports and annotating medical logs from the looks of it. _It certainly can't be easy taking care of all the students as well as the staff_ , she reasoned.

"Madam Pomfrey," Daphne ventured to say, causing the Mediwitch in question to look up from the scroll she was currently reading. "What are these for?" Daphne enquired with a quick glance down towards the ingredients before looking back to the woman seated at the desk.

"Given the day's weather, and certain students disregard for common sense," Madam Pomfrey said, her words drawing a smile from the blonde witch, "there will likely be a string of colds within Hogwarts soon. The young boys here just can't seem to keep out of the rain when they ought to," she explained. "Those will be used in a batch of Pepperup potions we'll brew later this afternoon."

"Pepperup potions? The one created by Glover Hipworth?" Daphne asked, having read about it previously in one of her mother's many books.

"The very one and the same, Ms. Greengrass," Poppy replied, impressed that the first year student knew who had created the potion. "It is a good general tonic and does wonders with the common cold."

Daphne hesitated, gathering her courage, before asking the question she really wanted to. "You won't tell, will you?" Daphne asked softly. "Harry, I mean. You won't tell him I know, will you?"

Madam Pomfrey stood and crossed to the nervous witch before she answered. "I guess there isn't much that I can do about you knowing, Ms. Greengrass," she told the girl, laying a comforting hand upon Daphne's shoulder. "Just as there isn't much good to come from informing Mr. Potter that you know of…his _condition_. I think for now it will remain our secret."

"Thank you!" Daphne replied from the bottom of her heart. The last thing Daphne wanted to do was cause Harry to not trust her or feel uneasy around her. _I'm sure he'll tell me eventually_ , she thought, certain of the fact.

"Yes, well, I believe you said you had some school work to do," Poppy asked only to see the girl before her nod. "Then you'd best be about it. Afterwards you can help me brew a batch of Pepperup potions as payment for listening in on conversations you ought not to have," the Mediwitch said with raised brows.

"Yes Ma`am," Daphne answered with, far too happy that Harry wouldn't find out about what she knew to realize that she would be assisting the Mediwitch with brewing a potion she'd never done before.

**-oOo-**

The day had been brutal! Lightening had flashed as it raced across the sky, nearly blinding in its brilliance. Not to be out done, the thunder which followed had been loud enough to deafen a person for a short time afterwards. The rain falling from the laden clouds above felt as if he was being pummeled by pebbles as he raced through the sky. Visibility was barely past the end of his broom as the rain made it difficult to see out of the goggles worn by all the players. All in all it had been a very chaotic and exhausting Quidditch practice, one that Harry thought had been bloody brilliant!

Harry trudged up the hill, trying his best to stay on his feet in the rain and the mud. The other members of the team all knew water repellant charms, though none offered to spell his robes for him. Even being drenched and chilled to the bone did little to diminish the adrenaline rush the young seeker was still on from the days practice. Hastening his pace, Harry climbed the remainder of the hill, slipped through the partially flooded courtyard and made it into the safety of the castle finally. The young wizard paused and looked back out at the rainstorm as he shook as much water and mud from his clothes as he could.

"I suppose you'll just being leaving that for me to clean?" asked the rough humorless voice of Argus Filch from behind Harry. "Gave no thought to who would have to clean up his mess, my sweet, did he now?" the squib added, his eyes darkening as he continued to stroke Mrs. Norris's fur gently.

Harry turned about slowly at the sound of the Caretaker's voice behind him. Argus Filch was well known for his dislike of students, especially those who tracked dirt into his castle. "N….no Sir," Harry stammered in reply. "I was just going to my room to change, Sir. I'll be more than happy to clean it up," Harry offered.

"Oh you'll clean alright," Argus said with a slowly growing smile. "You'll be joining me for detention tonight, you will," he informed Harry. "A pity they abolished the old punishments," Mr. Filch said wistfully. "A day or two in the Maiden would set a beastie like you right, I'll wager. You best be at my office after the evening meal. Don't try and run as that will only make it worse for you if you do!" Argus gave a last pained look at the growing puddle beneath Harry's feet before he turned away to find a mop. "God I miss the screams," he mumbled to himself.

Harry made his way down to the Dungeons and into the Slytherin common room. Paying little attention to anyone there, the young wizard quickly went to his dorm room and gathered a fresh change of clothes after depositing his in the dirty clothes chute. In short order the chilled Quidditch player was standing in the shower, the hot water spraying down his back and driving the cold of the weather outside from his weary muscles.

As the young wizard closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall in front of him, his thoughts turned to his friends. _Daphne and Tracey are worried about her_ , he silently mused. _They've been mentioning Hermione's absences more and more of late_. Harry sighed heavily, wondering not for the first time just what he should do to help Hermione. _It's not right that her entire House is treating her this way!_

The dark-haired boy reached for the soap and began to wash, being certain to get behind his ears as well as other hard to reach places. His aunt had been very big on cleanliness, at least as far as he had been concerned. More than once she had told him that she didn't want to have to smell him. Harry suspected that she was fearful that she might inhale some of his _freakiness_ or something.

_At least things haven't gotten any worse_ , Harry thought thankfully. On the few occasions when Hermione had managed to join the other Outsiders in the library Harry had ensured that they had a chance to speak privately about the bushy-haired witch's circumstances. _Still, she shouldn't have to put up with their pranks and insults just because of who she decides to have for friends!_ No stranger to nasty pranks himself, Harry could well understand just what the girl was going through. _At least she has a friend in that Weasley boy to help through the roughest parts_.

_I can't believe that I actually expected the Wizarding world to be different than the one the Dursleys are from_ , Harry thought in frustration. _I guess no matter where you live there will always be bullies_. Suddenly feeling less than exuberant, Harry finished showering and got ready for the evening meal. When he returned to his bed he found his clothes already cleaned and folded on his bed awaiting him. _Magic is bloody brilliant_ , he thought not for the first time since coming to Hogwarts. Beside the cleaned clothes was a rolled piece of parchment that hadn't been there previously. Cautiously Harry picked up the scroll, opened it and read the contents.

_Mr. Potter,_

_It has recently been brought to my attention that your eating habits are not sufficient for the work we are attempting to accomplish. Below you will find the minimum requirements that you will need to consume each meal to achieve optimal results. You may of course eat more, though I caution you not to do so to excess, as that too would be detrimental to our goal. Everything in its proper amount. I will see you tonight after the evening meal for your regular treatment._

_Madam Pomfrey  
Hogwarts Head Mediwitch_

Harry looked down at the amount of food he would be required to eat and his eyes grew large. "There's no way that much will fit inside me!" he exclaimed aloud. Almost everything on the list required serving sizes that were at least twice the size he was used to, if not more. "Not only am I allowed to eat meat at every meal but now I'm apparently required to," Harry uttered in disbelief. Growing up if he had meat more than twice a year it was miraculous, and now he would have it three times a day it seemed.

"This truly is a different world," Harry said with a shake of his head before he put his clothes away, finished dressing and headed out of the dorm. As it was nearing dinner time the bespectacled wizard made his way up to the main floor of the castle and headed for the great hall, only to hear Argus Filch's voice raised in anger.

"Yet another of you little beasts, tracking your filth across my floors without a care in the world," the irate man screamed in a high pitched voice.

"It's not my fault my water repellant charm failed before I could make it back inside," said a voice that Harry knew all too well. "How else am I to get to my House and change into dry clothes without leaving a trail?" Draco's condescending voice enquired of the caretaker.

Harry eased up to the corner of the hallway and glance around it. There, standing not far from the main gates of the castle stood the light-haired Slytherin wizard. The dark robes worn by the boy were soaked through and through as well as plastered to his body. Harry thought he looked for all the world like a drowned rat, with his hair matted and flattened to his head.

"I don't know," Filch replied sarcastically, "perhaps a little thing called magic?" Harry had to stifle a chuckle as Malfoy's face turned a bright red. "You'll have plenty of time to think about it tonight when you're serving detention with me," Argus informed the young Slytherin.

"My father will hear of this!" Draco exclaimed angrily, his fists balled up at his sides. "I'm a Malfoy! We don't take detention from squibs!" the Pure-blood scion spat out disdainfully as if only just realizing the who was lecturing him. "My father is on the school board. I can have you sacked at any time!" Harry heard the boy threaten.

"That will be ten points from Slytherin and a week of detentions!" snapped the angry voice of Professor Snape who had apparently stumbled upon the confrontation. "You will apologize immediately, Mr. Malfoy!"

Draco visibly paled at hearing his Head of House. "S…sorry, Professor Snape," the scared boy stammered.

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes in frustration. It was bad enough that one of his Snakes was mouthing off but it was even worse that they had gotten caught at it. "Not to me, you dunderhead!" barked the Potions Master. "To him," Severus stated, pointing toward Mr. Filch.

Draco turned stiffly towards the Caretaker, his jaws clenched in anger for a long moment before he spoke. "My apologies, Sir. I was in the wrong."

"If it were the old days I'd hang you by your ankles from the ceiling for a day or two," Argus replied irritability. "That would teach you some manners! It's too bad they won't let me do that anymore. I still have the shackles though. I keep them nice and oiled, just in case."

"Run along back to your common room, Draco," Snape ordered. "I'll see that food is brought to you," the Potions Master added upon seeing the boy begin to object. "That is unless you want to cost your House even more points?" Draco sped off, hurrying past Harry without even noticing he was there.

"Perhaps it would be best if the boy served his detentions with me," Snape offered. "I have all manner of nasty work that I could have him do."

"As you wish, Professor," Argus replied with a slight dipping of his head. The Caretaker envisioned the boy having to prepare all manner of foul potion ingredients. "I'll leave the little beastie in your hands," he added before turning away and ambling off while muttering about missing the old punishments.

Harry ducked back around the corner and waited a moment before stepping forth once again as if he had just then gotten there. The dark-haired wizard nearly ran into the Potion's Master. "My apologies, Professor Snape," Harry quickly offered.

"Potter," Snape drawled as he eyed the boy over once. "Out for a…stroll?"

"No, Sir," Harry replied as he adjusted his glasses which had slipped down when he had attempted to avoid colliding with his Head of House. "I was on my way to dinner, Sir."

"Fascinating," Snape drawled out slowly in a monotone voice. "On your way then," the Professor finally said after a few long and uncomfortable moments. Harry quickly headed towards the great hall once again only to freeze upon hearing the Potion Master ask, "How's the new broom?"

"Fine, Sir," Harry replied after turning about to regard the teacher. "Flint even thinks that I'll manage to keep from falling of it by our first game."

"I see," Snape replied flatly before making a shewing gesture.

Harry turned and all but ran towards the great hall. As he neared the entrance he saw a boy ahead of him and called out without even thinking about it. "Longbottom!" The boy in questioned turned upon hearing his name called. Harry approached the larger boy, noting the look of surprise on the Gryffindor's face. "It's Neville. Neville Longbottom, correct?"

"Y…yes," Neville replied, shocked that a Slytherin would stop him in the hall.

"Harry Potter," Harry offered. "I was wondering if I might speak with you for a moment." Harry asked, trying desperately not to show just how nervous he felt. He had never before approached another boy or even attempted to strike up a conversation before. _I have to do this_ , he told himself. _It's the only way I'll find out what is really going on_.

Harry led them over to a small alcove that was off the main hallway and would afford them a measure of privacy. "I'm sorry for calling you out like this, however I am hoping you'll be able to help me with something."

"W…what could I possibly help you out with, Potter?" Neville enquired, baffled by what the other boy was saying. _He's The-Boy-Who-Lived! What could he possibly need from me?_

"Harry," the Slytherin first year replied. Upon seeing the confused look upon Neville's face, Harry explain. "Please, just call me Harry." Seeing the other boy give a nod of acceptance he continued. "Hermione Granger, she's in your House. I'm worried about her. I'm hoping you can tell me how she is fairing."

Neville frowned, wondering if this was some prank at his expense. "Why would you care about what happens to a witch in another House?" Neville asked, a note of disbelief in his tone.

"I could care less what House Hermione is in," Harry replied truthfully. "She's my friend and I know the way your Housemates are treating her is hurting her!"

"But why me, Harry?" Neville pressed. "Why didn't you ask some other Gryff?"

Harry shrugged slightly as he replied, "Hermione has never spoken badly of you. I thought that maybe, as you've been bullied before, you might be a bit more sympathetic to her plight." Harry had witness on more than one occasion, Draco and other Slytherins giving the Gryffindor first year a difficult time. "Honestly, I was just hoping that I could count on you to tell me how she was doing."

_He wants to count on me? No one has ever wanted to count on me before_ , Neville thought in stunned disbelief. "I…I've been meaning to tell you for some time but haven't been able to. Thank you," Neville stated only to see a puzzled expression appear on Harry's face. "I know it was you that took the Rememberall away from Malfoy. I may be a bit slow, however when most the school is talking about how you knocked him off his broom, it's a little hard to miss," Neville told him with a small chuckle. "It was a present from my, Gran. So thank you for that."

"I'm just glad you got it back before Malfoy had a chance to hide it or worse, break it," Harry stated awkwardly, hoping that the boy wasn't going to try and kiss him on the cheek. Harry's thoughts were interrupted as the Longbottom scion thrust out a hand. Harry hesitantly accepted the proffered member only to have his hand shook twice and then released. _So that's how guys say thank you?_

"I don't see much of Hermione," Neville offered thoughtfully. "She's been spending a lot of time in her room. Not that I blame her," the first year Gryffindor was quick to add. "When she does come down to the common room everyone tends to glare at her and whisper about her behind her back. Eventually she leaves, either to the library or back to her room."

"Some people are pranking her I understand, as well as messing with her personal things. You wouldn't happen to know who, would you?" Harry asked. _Maybe if we know who it is I can talk to them and ask them to stop what they are doing._

"I heard about that," Neville admitted, "but I don't know who's responsible for it. Some of the spells are beyond us first years though."

"I see," Harry replied in a disappointed voice. _I didn't learn anything new but at least it was worth a try_. "Thanks, Longbottom," Harry added, sticking out his hand as Neville had done before.

"You're welcome," Neville replied accepting the offered hand, "and it's Neville. Just Neville."

Harry gave a small smile and a curt nod to show he understood. _At least not all Gryffindors are after her_ , he thought to himself. Harry had only gone a few feet when he heard the boy behind him speak once again.

"Harry, I don't believe them you know?" Neville said only to see the first year Slytherin turn to regard him.

"Believe what?" Harry asked, confused and curious at the same time.

"Those stories that Ron's been telling everyone," Neville replied. "About Hermione wanting to be resorted into Slytherin rather than stay in Gryffindor."

"Ron?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Ron Weasley? Isn't he the only one being nice to her? I thought he was her friend?"

"I don't think so," Neville answered, his brows creasing in contemplation for a moment. "He's been telling everyone else in our House that's he's staying close to her to gather more evidence."

"Evidence? What for?" Harry enquired earnestly. _Evidence is usually used in a trial. Is there some way they could have Hermione tried just for being friends with the rest of us? Could she be expelled?_ The young wizard suddenly realized that there was a great deal about this world that he didn't know or understand.

Neville shrugged before replying, "I don't really know. It's just what I heard."

"Thanks, Neville," Harry said. "You've been very helpful." The-Boy-Who-Lived adjusted his glasses once again as he eyed the Gryff. "You should come and study with us in the library some time," Harry offered.

Neville visibly paled. "I…I don't think I would be able to deal with all that Hermione is going through right now," the boy admitted. There was little doubt in his mind that if he were to start being seen in the company of Harry and the other that he would find himself in the same predicament that Hermione was currently in. The young wizard was certain that he wouldn't be able to handle the additional abuse. _It's bad enough with Malfoy and his group after me. I can only imagine what it would be like to have all of Gryffindor after me as well._

Harry gave a slight nod in sympathy as well as understanding before turning about and making his way to the great hall. As he walked the length of the hall towards the end of the Slytherin table he puzzled over what to do with the information he had just learned. _If Neville is right, then this was all caused by Weasley. If I tell Hermione, will she even believe me? What if she doesn't and thinks I'm just making it all up,_ he worried _._ The young wizard's chest seemed to tightened suddenly. _What if she decided that we couldn't be friends any longer?_

Harry glanced over at the Gryffindor table to where Hermione was seated with her back towards him. Across the table from her was seated Ron Weasley, shoving food into his mouth haphazardly. As Harry regarded his friend the red-haired boy caught his eyes and shot him a satisfied smirk. _Does he know that I know? Maybe Neville told him_ , Harry wondered only to see the Longbottom boy himself enter the hall and find a seat next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table, as none of her housemates wanted to sit anywhere near her apparently.

Reaching the end of the table finally, Harry sat and began to serve himself some food. The young wizard recalled the parchment from Madam Pomfrey and added additional quantities of food to his plate, even though he doubted he would be able to eat it all. _How can anyone eat so much?_ Harry mused as he once again looked in the direction of his bushy-haired friend only to see the grinning face of Ronald Weasley. Quickly looking away, Harry began to eat, taking a sudden keen interest in the food upon his plate apparently. With the first fork full of potatoes Harry knew something was wrong.

**-oOo-**

Hermione Granger wasn't happy. Not in the least! The past week had been the worst so far. Her clothes had been stolen and hid from her. Someone had ripped her sheets to shreds. Worst of all her books had gone missing that morning and no amount of searching had turned them up. Even the weather seemed to conspire against her with raining which stopped her from taking a walk along the lake. Her walks along the edge of Black Lake had become her refuge, the one place she could go and others, who were more intent on what transpired within the Gryffindor tower, let her be.

The only bright spots in her entire week were the classes that Gryffindor shared with Slytherin, as it allowed her to see her friends. She hated the fact that she could no longer sit with them, a suggestion Ron had made, as he believed it would help others see her more favorably. _A lot of good that did me_ , she lamented silently. _At least I can see them_ , she told herself, recalling the quick smile she had exchanged with Harry in their last class.

_I wish I could go to the library and study with the others, but every time I try to go Ron has some homework emergency that he needs my help with!_ Truthfully, the young witch was grateful for her newest friend, as he allowed her to feel needed. This was all the more important as everyone else in her House wanted nothing to do with her. _I don't know how I would manage to get through the day without him_ , she thought as she looked at the red-head across from her. "You look altogether too pleased with yourself, Ronald," Hermione said, taking stock of the grinning wizard since they sat down to eat.

"It's a beautiful day," Ron replied with a grin as he added another fork full of food to his mouth.

Hermione couldn't help but scowl at his cheerfulness, even though she knew she had no reason to be upset with the boy. "Ronald, it's been raining all day long, or is that your idea of beautiful?"

"Let's just say that the day is about to get much better," Ron replied around the food in his mouth, drawing a round of humorous snickers from several others seated at the table around them.

"Whatever are you up to, Ronald?" the bushy-haired witch enquired. Try as she might Hermione couldn't get the boy to tell her anything further. Frustrated, Hermione returned to pushing the food around upon her plate without actually eating much of it. The week's events had left her without much of an appetite.

"It should be any time now," Ron finally stated, his eyes darted towards the Slytherin table as a grin spread across his lips.

Hermione saw several others cast glances towards the table of Silver and Green but she couldn't figure out why. Shortly thereafter she had her answer. It started as whispers and giggles and progressed to barely suppressed laughter. Turning about once more to look at the other table she noticed that several of them were pointing and laughing behind their hands. Following their gaze she saw why. The young witch's eyes grew large in disbelief.

At the very end of the Slytherin table, all alone, sat Harry. This was not unusual as it had become pretty standard after the welcoming feast. Harry always chose to sit apart from the rest of his housemates. What wasn't normal though was the young wizards coloring. Harry's hair lightened from its normal dark strands to a light amber-red coloring. While this was transpiring the wizard's skin turned to a shade of gold. The youth's robes even changed coloring till Harry Potter was covered in the Gryffindor house colors.

Hermione watched in horrified fascination as the red turned to gold and gold to red and back again. Those from the other houses were pointing and laughing at brightly colored wizard who was her friend. It was more than Hermione could take, seeing her friend turned into a joke was perhaps the final straw of all. The young witch thrust herself to her feet and slammed her hands down upon the table top, causing many plates and cups to rattle in the process. "RONALD WEASLEY! How could you be so childish!" the irate witch exclaimed in a loud enough voice to be heard over the buzz of laughter and bad jokes at Harry's expense.

"What?" Ron yelled back, small particles of food flying forth with no regard as to where they would land. "He's had it coming for a while. He needs to learn that his place is with the other snakes and not with one of us Gryffindors!" Ron declared. "He's just a stinking snake," the red-head added with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders.

Hermione stood there, mouth agape, shocked into disbelief. "No…," she finally managed to reply with, "Harry's my friend."

"I thought we talked about this, Hermione? You don't need him," Ron said. "You've got me and your housemates. Face it, this is where you belong, Granger."

"Thank you, Ronald," the young witch told the red-head. "Thanks to you I know exactly where I belong now."

"Glad I could help," the boy replied only to nearly choke upon his food. Ronald Weasley couldn't believe his eyes as the young witch turned around and headed for the Slytherin table. _That's not what she's supposed to do_ , his mind yelled. _She's supposed to stay here and help me with my school work!_ "You'll regret it, Granger!" he called after her after swallowing hastily.

_I think I regret ever listening to you Ronald_ , Hermione thought to herself as she marched over and seated herself across from Harry. "Hi, Harry," she said, suddenly realizing that she was happy to be talking to her friend after all this time.

Harry, who had continued to eat as if nothing had happened, froze and the sound of Hermione's voice and slowly looked up in disbelief. "Hermione? What are you doing here? Your House will be angry with you!"

The Gryffindor witch shrugged slightly. "I think they're going to be angry with me regardless, Harry." Reaching across the table Hermione liberated the fork from the shocked boy's hand before scooping some food from his pate and popping it into her mouth.

"Hermione, don't!" Harry exclaimed, attempting to stop the witch from eating his food but it was too late. "You'll turn colors too," he added in a softer tone even as he watched his first friend chew and swallow the food.

"I would rather have one true friend, than a house full of prejudiced fools who can't see past the house name to the people within it," Hermione declared as she reached over and scooped some more food from Harry's plate, suddenly finding herself incredibly hungry, and popped it into her mouth.

"Don't go eating it all, Granger!" Daphne scolded as she took the seat next to Harry and liberated the fork from the Gryffindor's hand. Before either realized what the blonde witch intended to do Daphne speared several potatoes and deposited them into her mouth and started to chew before handing the fork across the table to Tracey who slid into the seat next to Hermione.

"You guys…," Harry started to say only to trail off, unable to figure out why they were doing this.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Harry, we're girls, not guys!" the auburn-haired witch scolded him with a playful smirk just before filling her own mouth with food from the wizards plate.

"Sorry," Harry automatically apologized, causing the three witches to chuckle softly behind hastily raised hands. About them the rest of the students and staff looked on in disbelief as the three witches started changing colors between red and gold as well.

"This is so not going to be a good look for me," Blaise Zabini intoned as he took the vacant seat next to Daphne, one arm extended, requesting the fork from Tracey they had all used. Once the dark skinned wizard received it he scooped up the last of the potatoes from Harry's plate. To shocked by this point, Harry didn't even attempt to stop him.

"Why?" Harry asked softly. "Why would you do this? You didn't have to, you know?"

Hermione gave the bewildered wizard a soft smile and reached across the table to lay a comforting red hand upon the boy's golden arm. "Of course we did, Harry. You're our friend."

"We're Outsiders," Daphne added with a grin as she slipped her gold colored arm around Harry's and gave it a tight squeeze.

"As Outsiders, we've only got each other," Tracey said while Blaise nodded in agreement as he chewed Harry's food.

A soft clearing of a throat stopped any further conversation as all heads turned in that direction from which it came. There, standing at the end of the Slytherin table was the Headmaster, a soft smile on his lips and a merry twinkle in his eyes. "My apologies for interrupting what was most certainly a touching display of friendship," the Headmaster said softly, "However I feel it would be best if we were to move this to a more suitable environment," Albus offered with an arched brow. "Perhaps the Hospital wing?"

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, startling the others Outsiders. All turned and saw what had caused the witch's outburst. Dark spot had begun to appear on the young wizard's skin. The spots soon began to bubble and fill with puss as they became boils. The first one grew to a large size and then burst, drawing a wince of pain from the dark-haired boy.

Albus Dumbledore turned and motioned with one hand, "Professor Sinistra, Severus, would you be so kind as to escort our young students to the Hospital wing so that they might receive the benefit of Madam Pomfrey's most excellent care?" Both called upon Professors left the head table and escorted the boiled covered students from the great hall of Hogwarts as requested.


	15. All Hallow's Eve

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and last but not least, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Much like the years, I've seemed to have acquired a fair number of titles," the elder wizard mused to himself as he selected a lemon drop from his ever present candy dish. The last of his titles was by far his most cherished. He would gladly give up all the others if it weren't for the fact that he didn't feel there was another who could do the positions properly "Never enough hours in the day," he contemplated as he popped the sour treat past his bearded lips and into his mouth. "Or days in the week for that matter," he added with an amused chuckle.

Seating himself behind his desk, the Headmaster lifted the parchment that lay before him and gave it a quick once over. The bill was just the latest to be paraded before the Wizengamot for their next session. "Thankfully the Lords prefer to stay home within the warmth and comfort of their manor houses during the winter months. Though I dare say that sitting through the summer sessions does require an adequate cooling charm or two," he added with a small smile.

Setting the bill aside for further studying later the Headmaster lifted the next parchment, the words _Triwizard Tournament_ at the top instantly catching his attention. "There hasn't been a tournament since 1792," Albus mumbled as he read further. The request was from Minister Fudge who thought it would be a grand idea to revive the long abandoned tournament. "No doubt to boost his declining popularity," the aged wizard mused aloud. "I'll have to persuade Cornelius to forego the tournament, I fear. It is far too dangerous," he added, recalling the issue with the cockatrice that had gone on a rampage and injured all three judges at the last tournament. "Far too dangerous indeed with Nicolas' stone being here. There are too many innocent children here that may come to harm."

The Headmaster sighed heavily as he would have liked to once again revive the tournament, with sterner precautionary measure added of course. "It is always a grand occasion when we can strengthen relations between the three largest schools in Europe. I fear we have all grown rather despondent to one another since the war. Were Voldemort to return, he would no doubt find us each an easy target as we are, isolated and on our own."

The aged wizard sucked on the sour treat for a long moment. _It has always been the innocents that have paid the price for our failure_ , he acknowledged. "Even now, years later, the children of those who fought are still paying the price," he mumbled as he thought of Harry as well as the young lad, Neville Longbottom. "Alas it is not simply the children who are innocent that must pay for our future," he confessed as his thoughts turned to the man who had been imprisoned in Azkaban a decade before and still was contained within those foul walls. "While some would call such sacrifices justly done for the greater good, and rightfully so perhaps, I can only see such actions as necessary steps to protect our future," he told himself though it did little to ease his heavy heart and the guilt he felt at having allowed the Black boy to be incarcerated even though he was innocent.

"If I hadn't…if I can cleared Sirius, he would have taken Harry Potter and raised him as his legal guardian." The aged wizard shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position. It was becoming more and more difficult each year to find a comfortable anything. "Had he done that I am most certain that one of Voldemort's followers would have gotten to the lad. Even with living behind a fidelius charm…what kind of life would that be for a child?"

The Grand Sorcerer's head shock side to side slowly. "No. The one chance we had was Lily's sacrifice and the opportunity it offered us. Harry's aunt, Petunia Dursley, and her blood connection to Lily Potter made it so we could protect the boy." Albus sighed once again as he slipped his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. _If only I could have saved him from his relatives. I most assuredly have let the lad down in that regard._ The Headmaster had made it a point to stay well away from Harry and his relatives all through the years in case someone managed to follow him to the boy's home. He didn't dare send anyone else as the fewer who knew where Harry was, the better. Other than Hagrid and Professor McGonagall, he himself was the only one to know where the boy was staying at.

"I truly am sorry, Harry," the tired wizard intoned softly to the empty room. "Had I known…," his words trailed off as he pondered just what he would have done had he known. _I would have put a stop to it for certain_ , he told himself. He knew as well that he still would have placed the child with the Dursleys as it was in deed the safest place for the only surviving member of the Potter family. Further rumination was forestalled as the gargoyle alerted him to the approach of his expected visitor. "Enter," Albus called out upon hearing a knock upon his door.

"Good evening, Headmaster," Minerva McGonagall said once she was past the door and had closed it securely behind herself.

"Is it a good evening, Professor?" Albus asked with no hint of the usual merry twinkle in his eyes. The dark path his thoughts had taken him down just prior to the arrival of his Transfiguration Professor had left him sorely feeling his years.

"I apologize for the unfortunate incident, Headmaster," Minerva opened with as she drew closer, pausing once she was standing before the Headmaster's desk. "I still can't believe it was one of my own students who did it. I take full responsibility, of course."

With a wave of his hand a comfortable chair appeared next to the Transfiguration Professor. "Let us not look to place the blame, Professor McGonagall. If that were the case then the blame would most certainly be my own, as are they not all my students?" the Headmaster asked with a slight smile as he indicate she should be seated. "Am I correct to assume that you have spoken with the boy?"

Professor McGonagall's brow furrowed in thought as she replied after seating herself. "I did and I confess to be slightly puzzled." Seeing the wizard's questioning look she continued. "Mr. Weasley insists that all he did was bewitch the food so that it would turn whomever consumed it red and gold."

"So then the boils were not of his doing?" Albus enquired.

"So he maintains, Headmaster," Professor McGonagall replied. "I'm inclined to believe him. He received the powder from his brothers of course."

"Ah yes, the twins," Albus interjected with a soft chuckle as he held a soft spot for the pranksters, much as he had for a certain group which called themselves The Marauders who had attended Hogwarts years before. They reminded him of himself when he was but a youth and had called the castle's halls his playground. The wizard of then had held a fondness for pranks and mischievous deeds as well.

"Precisely," Professor McGonagall confirmed with a disapproving frown. "I spoke with the two of them and they confirmed what their younger brother has said. They did add that at the time they were not aware what the powder would be used for." The aging witch leaned back into her chair before continuing. "I fear that young Mr. Weasley is now looked upon as something of a hero among my lions."

"House rivalry has always been a part of Hogwarts, I fear," Albus replied. "Striving to be better than others is one of many life lessons our students will learn while within these walls, Professor. I dare say that you yourself enjoy a bit of competition with Severus, do you not?" the Headmaster asked with a grandfatherly smile, the twinkle once more restored to his blue eyes.

"The House system sees to it that we must compete, Headmaster," Minerva huffed defensively. It irked the Transfiguration Professor that Severus and the Slytherin House had won the House Cup for the last seven years. Truth be told she would like nothing more than to wrest the cup away from the Potion Master and his house. "I would not be preforming my duties if I just sat idly by and didn't try my hardest for Gryffindor House and my young lions!"

"Quite so, quite so," Albus said in agreement, holding up one hand in supplication. "Boys will be boys," the Headmaster continued with upon seeing that the witch before him was placated. "I dare say that if this is all the mischief they partake in while at Hogwarts we shall count ourselves fortunate. Most fortunate indeed. Did you speak with Madam Pomfrey as to the health of those admitted into her care this evening?" the Headmaster questioned.

"Yes. I've just come from the hospital wing," Minerva replied. "Poppy said that they should all be fine by morning and be able to return to their houses. She wanted to keep them over night to ensure there were no other issues or side effects."

_Harry should be having his treatment tonight if I recall correctly_ , the Headmaster thought to himself. _How kind of our mediwitch to ensure that Harry has friends about him at such a time._ "I see. Then we shall leave them in her admirable care," he replied with a soft smile. "The night grows late so I shall leave the fate of young Mr. Weasley in your hands Professor McGonagall. I will of course floo Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the morning to make them aware of what has happened."

"That may be punishment enough," Minerva interjected, knowing all too well the temper of Molly Weasley. "Still, I think a few nights of detention with Mr. Filch will instill in the boy the belief that we do not approve of his actions," Professor McGonagall said as she stood. "Good evening, Headmaster," the witch added with a slight dipping of her head in respect.

"Sleep well, Professor," Albus replied as his Transfiguration teacher departed. _If it was not our young Mr. Weasley, then who was it that slipped in the other powder to cause the boils?_ he wondered to himself.

**-oOo-**

Harry Potter slowly awoke to the wondrous sensation of fingers running through his hair and along his scalp. For several long moments he simply lay there and marveled at how his life had changed in such small amount of time. _Who would have thought that I would one day be able to wake up with my head in a witch's lap?_ The young wizard's thoughts returned in a rush, recalling to mind what had happened at the evening meal. _I can't believe that they all came and sat with me and ate the same bewitched food that I did. It almost seems like a dream._

Harry remembered that they had been escorted to the Hospital wing by his head of house, Professor Snape and the Astronomy teacher, Professor Sinistra. Madam Pomfrey had been less than happy to see him in such a condition.

"A bit early aren't we, Mr. Potter?" the mediwitch had asked with an arch brow at the small boy. "Let's get the lot of you cleaned up so we can start your treatment then," Poppy said with a softening expression as she saw the boy wince in pain as another boil popped on its own accord. "Professor Sinistra, if you'll be so kind as to stay and lend me a hand," Poppy said with a pointed look towards the Potion Master, who took the none too subtle hint and quickly departed.

"You should all find a bed as you'll be staying the night," Madam Pomfrey informed the bespelled students as she turned and headed for her office while motioning for Aurora to follow her. In a few moments the mediwitch and astronomy professor were back with their hands filled with various vials which they passed out to the students to drink.

Harry drank down the two vials he was handed without hesitation, having learned it was best to get the foul task over with as quickly as possible. As soon as Harry saw the boils begin to diminish, he stood and made to leave only to be halted by Madam Pomfrey calling his name.

"Just where might you be off to, Mr. Potter?" the mediwitch enquired with a stern frown.

Harry turned about, his eyes falling to the floor in embarrassment. "I have to serve detention with Mr. Filch this evening for tracking in mud when I returned from Quidditch practice earlier today," Harry replied in a hesitant voice.

"I'll speak with Argus and inform him that you'll be serving your detention with me," Aurora spoke up. "I think it is best if you remain here where Poppy can keep an eye on you for now. Is there anyone else that needs to be someplace?" the astronomy professor asked with a glance about to the other students, only to see them shake their heads.

In short order the students took turns using the loo to change into their pajamas, which had magically appeared upon the foot of their beds. It wasn't long before they were all tucked into beds with Hermione on one side of Harry and Blaise next to her with Daphne on the other side of Harry and Tracey just past her. With all of them settled, Professor Sinistra waved her wand to extinguish the lights till it was dark in the room with only the stray moon beams filtering in through the tall windows to light the room.

Madam Pomfrey walked over to Harry's bed and held out the now familiar potion to the boy. "This shouldn't have any adverse reaction with the other potions in your system, Mr. Potter, so there is no reason to forego taking it as scheduled."

"Yes, Ma`am," Harry replied as he accepted the potion and downed it in several large gulps.

"Have you been eating correctly?" Poppy enquired as she accepted the now empty potion vial back from the boy.

"Yes, Ma`am," Harry replied once again. "Is it really necessary to eat so much though?" he dared to ask.

"The work we're attempting to do requires that your body have the proper levels of nourishment," she told him, dropping her voice lower so that her words wouldn't carry to the others in the room. "If you're worried about gaining extra weight you shouldn't be as that is part of what we're attempting to accomplish." Seeing the boy about to object the witch quickly continued. "If you are truly concerned we can design a set of exercises for you that would not only help with additional weight but might also assist in building muscle mass which you'll need as you grow."

Harry settled back into his pillow and thought for a moment before responding. "I think I should like that. I'm certain that it will help me when playing Quidditch as well."

"I would imagine so," Poppy agreed with a disapproving frown at the mention of the game. The mediwitch had seen far too many students injured from playing the game to have any liking for it. After wishing the boy sweet dreams the mediwitch turned and headed for her office where she was certain her favorite astronomy professor was anxiously awaiting the details concerning Mr. Potter, which she had promised earlier that day.

Harry's thoughts were once more drawn to the present as the wondrous fingers trailed through his dark locks and along his scalp, sending an enjoyable shiver along his spine. "I really should thank you properly, Daphne," Harry stated in a somewhat drowsy voice," but I am just too comfortable to move at the moment so this shall have to do." The young wizard rolled his head forward slightly and kissed the thigh upon which he rested.

"I'm sure Daphne will be every so sorry to know that she missed that," Travis Davis said with a humorous chuckle. The young witch was glad that it was dark in the room so that the wizard in her lap couldn't see her checks blushing due to his actions. "If that's the thanks she's been getting then I think I shall have to do this more often."

"Tracey?" Harry asked in a puzzled expression as he made to turn his head and look only to be forestalled by the witch's hand within his hair. "I thought you were Daphne," he confessed settling back into the position he had been in.

"I had wondered where Daphne had been disappearing to," Tracey informed him. "I had just assumed that she was avoiding Malfoy and his goons. If I had known that she was spending time with you I would have insisted I be included as well. It is very unfair that she didn't share this time with us after all," Tracey added in a slightly pouting tone.

"The fault is mine," Harry replied with, quickly coming to the blonde witch's defense. "I…I didn't want everyone to worry about me so I asked her not to say anything. What did she tell you actually?" Harry asked hesitantly after several long silent moments.

"She only told Hermione and I about it this evening," Tracey answered. "She said that we might hear you whimper in your sleep and that should we do so, that this was the best way to help you," Tracey said as she once again started to run her hand through his hair. "I suspect that you can count on the three of us taking turns from now on. Just what is the potion you're taking supposed to do?" Tracey asked as she continued her ministration to the boy's unruly locks.

"Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster are trying to help me by changing me," Harry replied after a moment of thought. "It seems I've missed out on some growth or something," he added, feeling that his answer was vague enough that it wouldn't indicate exactly why he had missed out on the proper growth.

Tracey was quiet for several long moments before she replied. "I don't see what all the fuss is about, Harry," she opened with as she continued to run her fingers along the scalp of the head in her lap. "I think you're perfect just as you are."

_No one has ever thought I was perfect as I am_ , Harry thought to himself as he felt his chest constrict and grow warm at Tracey's heartfelt words. Lost in her kind words Harry rolled his head forward and once again kissed the thigh upon which he rested. "Thank you, Tracey. I think that is the nicest thing anyone has ever told me."

"It…it's true you know," Tracey stammered as she felt her cheeks heat into a rapid blush once again.

Harry merely smiled before a sudden thought occurred to him. "Tracey…,"

"Hmm?" the young witch replied softly, unwilling to trust her voice at the moment as her throat felt cocked with emotions for the boy in her lap. Her feelings confused her and she wasn't certain exactly what to do with them. _How can that possibly be the nicest thing anyone has said about you, Harry?_ Tracey suddenly wondered. Tracey had a sudden confusing urge to protect the boy who was her friend. The auburn-haired witch made herself a silent vow to be certain to tell her friend more often just how truly wonderful she thought he was.

"Did I?" Harry asked softly. "Did I whimper in my sleep?"

"Only slightly," Tracey replied, not wanting to embarrass the boy by admitting it had actually been fairly loud. "I'm a rather light sleeper though, especially when in a place I am unfamiliar with. Every little sound wakes me it seems."

"I see," Harry replied, glad that he hadn't made a complete fool of himself by childishly crying in his sleep. As he thought about it though he realized that as long as it was Tracey, or even Daphne or Hermione, he wouldn't mind too much if they heard him. _I guess that is what it means to have friends,_ he thought to himself. "I'm sorry then if I woke you."

"Shush you," Tracey scolded playfully with a small smile. "It's still a while till morning so try to go back to sleep, Harry," she instructed him as she soothingly played with his hair.

Harry sighed contentedly and closed his eyes and tried to do as told despite the fact that his joints hurt and seemed to throb with every heartbeat. _At least the potion seems to be working._ A soft sweet melody soon reached his ears and it took him a moment to realize that Tracey had started to hum. "That sounds beautiful, Tracey. What is it?" Harry asked, his curiosity winning out against doing what he had been instructed to do.

"When I was very little my Mum would sing me a suantrai, a lullaby, when I had trouble falling asleep," Tracey told him in a slightly wistful tone as she recalled one of the few good memories she had of her parents. "I can just barely remember her voice, I was so little and it was so long ago, but the words and melody have always stuck with me."

"Will you sing it for me?" Harry asked in a drowsy tone.

"If you'll go to sleep," Tracey replied with a soft smile at his request. Seeing the wizard in her lap close his eyes and get comfortable the young witch hummed the tune for a moment and then softly added the words to the Irish lullaby.

Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby  
Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay  
And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow  
Bless you with love for the road that you go

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Tracey's voice was so sweet and pure that it instantly caught at his heart and he could feel his chest once more grow tight and a warmth seemed to spread throughout his body.

May you sail fair to the far fields of fortune  
With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet  
And may you need never to banish misfortune  
May you find kindness in all that you meet

The young wizard, listening to his friend's tender words, couldn't help but wonder if his own mother had sung to him a similar song when he was a baby. A soft pain of longing for the mother he never knew flared deep within his chest. Not to be outdone, a pain shot through his body as the potion he had drank earlier that evening continued to do its work. Harry reached out and upon finding Tracey's free hand, entwined his fingers in hers, taking a measure of comfort in her presence.

May there always be angels to watch over you  
To guide you each step of the way  
To guard you and keep you safe from all harm  
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Tracey gave the hand in hers a small squeeze of reassurance. _I'm here for you, Harry_ , she thought even as she continued to sing to the boy in her lap the lullaby which she hadn't even shared with Daphne, her closest friend. _I don't know why you have to go through this or why you missed growth but I can make certain you don't have to endure this alone. If my singing helps you in any way then I'll sing you to sleep every night if I can._

May you bring love and may you bring happiness  
Be loved in return to the end of your days  
Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you  
I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay

May there always be angels to watch over you  
To guide you each step of the way  
To guard you and keep you safe from all harm  
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay...

Harry sighed as Tracey's voice quieted and she once again hummed the melody for a verse and then trailed off into silence. "That was simply beautiful, Tracey," the wizard told her. "If I could hear angels sing I am certain that is what they would sound like," Harry said in a slightly awed tone which was none the less filled with certainty. "Thank you Tracey," Harry offered his thanks, giving the thigh beneath his head a third and final kiss. "I'm glad you're here," he explained giving the witch's hand in his a gentle squeeze.

Tracey felt her eyes tear up slightly upon hearing his heartfelt words. Leaning down she gently placed a kiss upon Harry's exposed cheek, eliciting a small smile of appreciation from the wizard in her lap. "Thank you, Harry. I'm glad I'm here as well," she whispered near his ear.

As the young witch sat up and started to hum once again the clouds in the evening sky parted. As the first words to the lullaby once more left Tracey's lips a shaft of moonlight slipped through the parted clouds and through a window to shower the pair upon the bed in its tender glow. The occupants on either side of Harry's bed watched the surreal scene as Tracey's soft words floated through the room. Daphne and Hermione both gave thanks that their friends could find comfort in each other.

**-oOo-**

In the morning the five friends made their way towards the great hall. It had been a bit awkward for Harry to awake only to find Tracey curled up upon his bed next to him but then he recalled the events of that night and he didn't mind so much, if at all. Harry was just thankful that Blaise had been the last to awake and hence hadn't seen that Tracey had slept next to him. The dark-haired wizard was certain that the other wizard would have teased him about it if he had. Other than a few knowing smiles from Hermione and Daphne and a somewhat bashful grin from Tracey, no one had mentioned the impromptu sleeping arrangements. The emerald eyed wizard vowed that he wasn't going to bring it up if they weren't.

Harry made his way to his usual seat, only noticing that the others had followed him over once he arrived at the end of the Slytherin table and seated himself. With the exception of Hermione the other Outsiders took the same seats they had the night before. The bushy-haired witch paused and looked back towards the Gryffindor table.

"It's alright Hermione," Harry offered, deciding that if the others in Slytherin wanted to sit with him there really wasn't much he could do about it at this point. Hermione, on the other hand, belonging to a different house entirely, was another matter. "It will get you into further trouble with your housemates, so you don't have to sit with us."

"We know you're one of us," Daphne offered, not wishing to make matters any worse for her friend. _After last night her House is bound to be put out with her because of her actions_. "Right Tracey?" Daphne added with a hopeful look towards her friend.

"Don't give them the satisfaction, Granger," Tracey said turning and glaring at the Gryffindor table, causing several who had been looking in their direction to turn away quickly. "I think you should just sit with us," Tracey added, ignoring Daphne's squawk of protest.

"I'm with Davis on this one," Blaise chimed in with as he started to fill his plate with food. "Once you bow to the wishes of others they'll always expect you to do it. At least that's what me Mum always tells me."

"Guys," Harry cautioned the others, not wishing to be the cause of any more harm to Hermione. _It's bad enough that her entire house ignores her unless they are pranking her._ "I'm certain after last night Hermione will have a hard enough time in her own house. Let's not make it any harder for her," Harry counseled before turning to regard the standing witch.

Hermione stood up straighter and squared her shoulders as a determine look crossed her face as she looked towards Tracey and Blaise. "No, they're right," she finally said causing Harry to give her a nod of understanding, feeling relieved that Hermione understood. The Gryffindor witch slipped into the vacant seat across from Harry. "I'm an Outsider so I belong here with you, Harry," she told the stunned wizard across from her before hastily adding, "and the others of course."

"Hermione, are you certain?" Harry asked reaching out and laying a hand upon the witch's forearm. "Things could get far more difficult for you," he added, knowing what she was already going through just by associating with him and the other members of their group. _I can only imagine what they'll do to her if she shuns her entire house in favor of sitting with us at the Slytherin table_.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply however whatever she was about to say was halted by a sudden disruption which came from the Gryffindor table.

**-oOo-**

Ron Weasley was having the best morning of his life. His little stunt the previous evening had elevated his status within the House of Red & Gold to nearly that of a celebrity. Even his brothers, Fred and George, had afforded him a measure of respect, which he had as yet to ever receive from the pranksters. His older brother Percy had scolded him for a long while but that was to be expected as Percy was the Prefect and hence had no choice but to do otherwise. The youngest Weasley was certain that under that stern disapproval publically shown, Percy was actually applauding his actions. The young red-head couldn't help but grin as he shoveled food into his mouth and listened to those around him talking about how the Slytherin's had turned colors.

"Did you see his face when it turned gold and his hair was red?" exclaimed Dean Thomas. "Blimey but that was a wonderful thing to see!"

"I thought the boils were a particularly brilliant piece," Seamus Finnigan was quick to add. "Well done there, Ron! I didn't think you had it in ya!" the Irish lad declared before munching on another piece of bacon.

"Don't you think it might have been a bit much?" Neville Longbottom asked tentatively.

"He had it coming!" Ron replied defensively. _I'm not sure where the boils came from_ , the young Gryffindor wizard thought to himself, _but if McGonagall believes it wasn't me then I've nothing to worry about_. "Snakes shouldn't be around us Lions," Ron boasted proudly, loud enough to make certain his voice was heard the next table over. His words earned him more than one glare from the House of Silver  & Green.

"But Hermione got hurt as well," Neville pressed, feeling that the entire affair had been uncalled for. "She's one of us."

"No one forced her to sit over there or to eat the food for that matter," Seamus replied, coming to Ron's defense. "Just who's side are you on anyways, Longbottom?" enquired the dark- haired boy.

"No ones," Neville stammered quickly before turning his attention back to his own food, fearful that they would decide to treat him the same way they were treating the Granger girl.

"Speaking of the little traitor," Dean said with a nod towards the doors to the great hall where Hermione and a group of Slytherin's were entering together.

"I bet she'll come begging for forgiveness now," Ron said in a low whisper, causing the other two to snicker in agreement. Plans of allowing the know-it-all witch do his homework for the remainder of the school year filtered through the young wizards head. _Maybe I can have her do next years as well_ , Ron thought to himself only to see the witch in question march past the Gryffindor table with Potter and her other Slytherin friends.

Too busy glaring at Hermione and the others as they took their seats at the end of the Slytherin table, Ron failed to notice that the morning mail had arrived and hence missed the red envelope that landed before him with tendrils of steams seeping from its edges. It wasn't till Neville spoke up that the red-headed wizard turned back around.

"That's a Howler!" Neville exclaimed upon seeing the smoldering envelope. "My Gran sent me one of those once and I left it alone and it was ten time worse when I finally did open it!"

With a trembling hand the youngest Weasley reached out and picked up the envelope that seemed to twitch in his grasp. Hesitantly he broke the seal on it only to have it shoot up into the air and transfigure itself into a set of eyes and a mouth. The voice that issued forth from it was one that he knew all too well. "Mum?" he mumbled under his breath in shocked disbelief.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!" screamed an irate woman's voice loud enough that one would think that a sonorous charm had been used. All eyes turned towards the Gryffindor table and the bright red envelope which hung in the air directly before the youngest Weasley boy. "HOW DARE YOU DO SUCH A THING? THE HEADMASTER HIMSELF HAD TO TAKE TIME FROM HIS BUSY WORK AND FLOO US! JUST YOU WAIT TILL YOU COME HOME!"

The letter turned and looked further down the table a ways at the twins seated there. "I expected better of the both of you. How could you give him that stuff in the first place?" the howler asked before turning back to the cowering boy. "YOU WILL APOLOGIZE TO THE OTHER STUDENTS IMMEDIATELY! WE WILL DISCUSS THIS IN GREATER DETAIL WHEN YOU ARE HOME!" the howler screamed before its tone changed once again to sound almost caring. "Hope you are doing well. Love and miss you, Mum and Dad!" The red envelope folded itself up and then suddenly shredded itself into tiny bits which rained down upon the table.

Ron Weasley sat there, too stunned by what had happened to even finish eating. The young wizard could hear the laughter coming from the direction of the Slytherin table, which did very little to help his rapidly falling spirits. _But he had it coming to him_ , Ron told himself as if that was the answer to everything. Turning his head he looked towards where Harry and the others were seated only to see all of them staring at him. _Even Granger is laughing at me_ , Ron fumed, mistaking the girl's shocked expression for one of humor.

_It's all his fault_ , Ron thought as a slow burning anger blossomed in the pit of his belly. _Everything was perfect till Harry Bloody Potter just had to start at Hogwarts the same year as I did. If he wasn't here then Granger would be sitting next to me and helping me do my studies!_ The boy of course meant that she would be doing his studies for him. Being the youngest boy he had learned long ago how to manipulate his brothers to do thing for him. Sadly it was a trait he had shown his sister only to discover that she was far better at it than he was. The wizard nearly jump out of his seat as hands landed heavily on each of his shoulders.

"Come now, little brother," Fred said looking down at Ron.

"Medicine is best taken quickly and gotten over with, it is," George added from the other side of the seated wizard. The twins quickly grasped their younger sibling under each arm and lifted him from his seat.

"Wait!" Ron wailed as he was hauled to his feet and half carried, half dragged towards the end of the Slytherin table. "What are you doing?" the boy asked as he desperately tried to halt their forward movement.

"Didn't you hear, Mum?" Fred asked his younger struggling brother.

"I'm fairly certain the whole school did, brother mine," George said to Fred as they both grinned in agreement.

"Best then to get this over with as soon as possible," Fred said, his smile slipping a bit as his expression verged on almost serious.

George continued to grin, "No time…,"

"…like the present," Fred finished with as the twins thrust the younger boy forward and causing him to stumble slightly.

Ron gained his balance and looked up only to see Harry and the others regarding him suspiciously. _I guess I might as well as I doubt I could be any further embarrassed than what Mum's howler has made me_ , he thought to himself as he gathered his Gryffindor courage. "I…I apologize for having pulled such a prank on you," the young wizard stammered, as he made certain that he wasn't meeting anyone's eyes directly. _No way am I apologizing to him! None of this would have happened if it hadn't been for him after all!_

Harry stared at the Gryffindor boy for a long moment, not exactly certain how to handle someone apologizing to him. _He really should be offering his apologies to Hermione_ , Harry thought to himself only to have a sudden thought. "Ron, you'll see that Hermione isn't bullied any more, won't you?" Harry asked, catching the boy's eye finally.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped at her friend only to be stalled by the bespectacled wizard's raised hand. Daphne and Tracey exchanged looks, suddenly understanding what had been bothering the Gryffindor witch all this time.

"No more stuff disappearing or being misplaced?" Harry pressed locking eyes with the red-head. "No more rumors about her wanting to change houses?"

Ronald Weasley seethed silently within, taking great pains not to allow it to show on his face. _How? How did he know I was the one spreading those rumors? Sneaky little Snake!_ "I…I can't control what others do or say," Ron finally stammered after a long pause. "I'll do what I can though."

"Thank you. That's all we can ask," Harry replied only to see the boy roughly shake his shoulders out of his brother's grasps before storming back over to the Gryffindor table and angrily dropping in his seat where he proceeded to ignore everything, even his food.

"Sorry about that, Mate," Fred apologized as he watched his brother depart.

"We're fairly certain Mum drop him a few times when he was little," George offered. "Not right in the head, that one is."

"It's not your fault," Harry told them, sensing that they felt the blame for their sibling's actions was theirs.

Fred looked sheepish, "Well you see…,"

"…actually it is," George finished with. "We gave him the powder for the red and gold," he confessed.

"Of course we hadn't a clue as to what he was going to do with it at the time," Fred was quick to point out. "We thought he was going to use it on someone from our own house. Last year we used in at Gryffindor Quidditch matches to show our House pride. Had we known what the prat was up to we never would have given it to him."

Harry simply gave a brief nod, accepting their apology as well before he continued. "I guess that makes us even in a way," he said only to be met with twin blank looks. "I think I owe you both an apology for what I did at King's Cross back at the start of term. I don't do well with all the attention and what not," Harry offered, hastily running a nervous hand through his hair only to feel Daphne's hand upon his thigh as she gave it a small squeeze of reassurance.

"Honestly I think Ginny was more disappointed than we were," George stated. "I'll wager she's still upset about that, she is."

"I'm truly sorry about that," Harry hastily replied, feeling bad for perhaps hurting their sister's feelings, even if on accident.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Mate," Fred chimed in with.

"You can always make it up to her next year when she starts here," George offered with a knowing grin.

"Can't have the girls weeping after you and all that now can we?" Fred asked with an equally knowing grin.

"N...no, we can't have that," Harry replied, suddenly feeling worried as he quickly glanced about the table only to see all three witch's present regarding him intently. "So, even then?" Harry asked looking back towards the older boys. It amazed him that he could speak with them so easily. _Perhaps it is because I've spoken with them before and I have friends around me now_. _Not being alone does seem to make a difference_ , he reasoned.

"It should be us asking you that, Mate," Fred replied, more than willing to call it even.

"Still, if you ever fancy getting back at the little prat," George offered as both twins jerked their heads in their brother's direction.

"We'd be more than willing to offer you some quality items that we just happen to have," Fred supplied with a sly little smile.

"At discounted prices even," George was quick to clarify with a roguish grin to match his brothers.

Harry could only shake his head and grin as he watched the twins return to their table and start to give their younger sibling a difficult time. Suddenly finding himself very hungry the Quidditch player reached for food and started to fill his plate. _Where ever will I put it all?_ he pondered as he eyed the amount of food Madam Pomfrey had insisted he eat.

"What was that all about, Harry?" Hermione asked turning back to look at the dark-haired boy across from her. In the end Harry had to tell them about how he had first met the twin's while boarding the Hogwarts Express.

**-oOo-**

Blaise Zabini walked into the great hall of Hogwarts with a smile on his face and his head held high. The day was All Hollow's Eve and there was a current of excitement in the air as the students discussed the upcoming feast that evening. The day had been filled with funny pranks as well as some not so funny ones. The dark skinned Slytherin made his way to the end of his House's table and took his usual seat. Glancing about as he started to fill his plate he noticed the three witches seated with him staring at him. "What?" the young wizard asked.

"What do you mean, _What_?" Tracey snapped back quickly as the other two nodded their agreement. "Are you alright?" she added as she eyed the boy's rapidly swelling black eye and his split lip.

"This is nothing," Blaise said dismissively with a grin that caused him to wince in pain from the cut on his lip. "You should have seen the other guy!"

"You were in a fight!" Hermione exclaimed, putting it all together. "But why? With who?"

"No," Blaise corrected, holding up his fork to forestall her from continuing. "As far as Professor Snape knows, Malfoy and I fell down the stairs into the common room," the grinning boy concluded with just before he popped a chip into his mouth.

"Malfoy?" Daphne gasped before turning and looking down along the Slytherin table. While she spotted Crabbe and Goyle fairly quickly, there was no sign of the puffed up boy in question. "Where is he?"

"Heading to the Hospital wing with our Head of House, last I saw him," Blaise replied around the food in his mouth. "Where's Harry at?" the boy asked, noticing that the other first year wizard was absent.

"He hasn't shown up yet," Tracey provided in a dejected tone.

Hermione's brow creased in concern. "He didn't show up for breakfast either," the Gryffindor witch said aloud as she knew they were all thinking it. "I hope he's alright."

"It can't be easy for him," Daphne contributed softly as she slowly rotated her tea cup on the table top before her. "Today is the day after all. A decade has passed since Harry lost his parents."

"Do…do you think we should look for him?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

Blaise quickly swallowed his food, nearly choking on it in the process. "Blimey, leave the poor bloke alone!" he told the three girls. "He made it to class and all, so he's probably not that bad off. Maybe he just wants to be alone for a bit. If he wants company I'm sure he'll come and find us for it. We're his friends after all."

Daphne stared at the tea in her cup for a long moment. _Would Harry even know to come to us? I'm certain he's never had anyone he could turn to before._ The young witch's heart felt heavy. _Blaise is right on one account, Harry may just want some time alone. But what if he doesn't?_ The bright witch's initial instinct was to find her friend and try to comfort him, however her uncertainty held her to her seat. _I wonder if those relatives of his ever brought him to see his parents' graves. If they were that terrible to him then I doubt it_ , she reasoned, recalling the abuse Harry had endured at their hands.

_Harry, are you alright?_ Hermione wondered as she wrestled with herself. The Gryffindor's first reaction was to storm out of the great hall and find the dark-haired wizard. _He's my first friend…my best friend. I should be there for him_ , she told herself. _Even if all I can do is sit beside him in case he needs me! Would that be too much?_ Suddenly recalling Blaise's comment that Harry might just want some time alone, she wasn't certain just what she should do. _Would my being there actually make matter worse? If he wants to be alone and I force my presence on him, that wouldn't be good. What type of friend would that make me?_

_Is he hurting?_ Tracey mused silently, feeling her own chest constrict at the thought of him hurting all alone. _My parents may not have died but it sometimes feels like it._ With so little contact and not having seen them for so long the auburn-haired witch, at times when she was angry with them for abandoning her, would tell herself it would be better if they were actually gone for good. Despite everything, there were also times her heart still ached for the sound of their voices or her mother's touch. It was times like those that she would cry herself to sleep. _I know how badly it can hurt Harry. I also know that at times you don't want others around you_. Tracey recalled several times when she was younger that she had hid, even from Daphne. _Having others about just makes you remember all the more what you're missing._

"Blaise," Tracey suddenly asked, breaking from her thoughts, "What did you and Malfoy get in a fight about?"

The wizard quickly finished chewing and swallowed his food, only to reach for a goblet of liquid when he started to choke. "Nasty stuff that pumpkin juice," Blaise exclaimed with a distasteful look at the goblet as he set it back down on the table and pushed it far away from himself as he could. "I don't see how anyone can drink the stuff!"

"Zabini!" Tracey growled in a low and threatening tone, causing the wizard to look at her in surprise. "Are you going to tell us or are we going to have to hold you down and pour more pumpkin juice down your throat till you do?"

The only wizard currently in their group looked about at the other two witches and swallowed nervously at their threatening glares. _Somehow I think they would, right here in the middle of the great hall and all even_! "I was getting to that, Davis," Blaise replied holding his hands up defensively as if he was warding off the attack already. "It's not like I planned on cho-,"

"Zabini," Tracey growled softly as she reached for the discarded goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Alright! Alright!" Blaise sputtered out. "So I happen to overhear Malfoy bragging to his two trolls."

"That's nothing new," Tracey interjected. "Crabbe and Goyle are some of the few that can actually stand to listen to Malfoy for any great length of time."

"True enough," Blaise agreed. "He was going on and on about something. I was going to ignore him but then I heard him mention Harry's name." A quick glance showed that he had all three witches' undivided attention. "He was telling them how he saw Weasley do something to Harry's place at the table." Blaise raised his head and looked about to make certain no one was listening in before he leaned forward and added in a quieter tone, "Once he saw the Gryff leave the little git added his own something and that's where the boils came from."

"You took all three of them on at once?" Daphne asked in disbelief.

"Please! What house am I from? I'm not some thick headed Gryffindor!" Blaise shot back only to realize that there was a member of the Gryffindor House with them at that moment. "Sorry, Hermione," the boy offered apologetically. The bushy-haired witch just waved it off. "I hid one of his books from him. When we were on our way to class he realized he didn't have it and went back to get it. When he did, I followed him," the boy said with a smug smile. The dark-skinned wizard had jinxed the stairs in a layer of ice. Malfoy had fallen and then slid all the way down the stairs, his head bounce off each one on the way down. "Apparently those stairs are just as slippery going up them as they are doing down," Blaise added, his smile slipping a bit at the memory of how he had fallen for his own prank.

**-oOo-**

Draco Malfoy was in a foul mood and with good reason. "I swear," the young Malfoy scion fumed as he spun and glared at Crabbe and Goyle angrily, "When I find out who jinxed the ice onto those stairs, my father will hear of it!" The young wizard had regained consciousness within the hospital wing of the school with Madam Pomfrey tending to his injuries. Even now, hours later, his head was still aching. The embarrassing part of it all was that it had been Professor Snape, his own Head of House, who had found him on the floor and delivered him into the mediwitch's care.

"It wasn't one of you two was it?" Draco barked, eyeing each boy closely. _They're stupid enough to tell me if it was them or not. I'm certain of it! Still, I doubt either would have the brains to think something of that nature up._ Seeing both boy shake their heads negatively the light haired boy grunted in acceptance and resumed his pacing. "The professors believe it was just an All Hollow's Eve prank gone awry, but I know different!" Draco fumed, certain that it had been aimed directly at him.

_Was it Potter?_ Draco wondered. _Did he find out that I added the boil powder after Weasley left?_ The young Slytherin couldn't help but worry that he might have been found out. _If Potter knew I'm sure he would have gone to a professor by now_ , the boy reasoned as he continued to pace back and forth. _As Professor Snape hasn't come for me yet, Potter either knows and is keeping quiet about it or…what? Perhaps he is keeping the knowledge to use it against me at another time? That would be the Slytherin thing to do after all._

The blonde Slytherin was actually grateful for the prank in a way, as the visit to the Hospital wing had meant that he didn't have to sit his afternoon classes. A sudden thought hit the boy, causing him to freeze and look towards the other two. "Did either of you take notes today in class?" Seeing the identical blank stares regarding him, Draco sighed, wondering when he'd be able to get some brighter friends.

The door to the Slytherin common room opened and none other than Harry Potter entered. Draco glared at his fellow first year student who quickly crossed the room and disappeared into the boy's dormitory. _I wonder what he's up to?_ It wasn't long before The-Boy-Who-Lived returned, this time without his school bag, and headed back towards the door leading out of the common room.

"What's your rush, Potter?" Draco asked, as the other boy passed the trio. "Oh that's right. Today is All Hollow's Eve. I bet you just can't wait for this day every year," Draco offered with a sneer.

Harry paused for a moment at the door, confused by the boy's words. _My Mum and Dad died today. Why would I long for this day? It's just a reminder that they aren't here,_ he thought to himself as he recalled all the looks and stares he had been receiving since that morning. Unfamiliar with others worrying about him it was easy to mistake concern for pity and sadness for displeasure.

"They say that on this night the vail between the real world and the other is at its thinnest," Draco told Harry while he watched the boys back. "Maybe, if you look real hard, you'll be able to finally see your Mum and Dad!" The trio broke out into laughter which Harry could hear till the secret door to the Slytherin common room closed behind him after he made his escape.

**-oOo-**

"Have you seen Harry?" Daphne asked her oldest friend as the two of them met just outside the entrance to the great hall. "I checked the library and he's not there." The young witch had steadily grown more concerned for her friend, especially with the way Harry had raced out of the room at the end of the last class for the day.

"Not since our last class. Same as you," Tracey replied as she once more worried about the missing wizard. _He must be feeling terrible!_ "I don't care what Blaise said earlier. I don't think it's good for Harry to be by himself, especially today."

"I feel the same way," Daphne confessed.

"So what are we going to do?" Tracey asked.

"We'll wait here for Hermione and then we're going to go find him!" Daphne replied earnestly.

"E…ex…excuse me," stammered a timid sounding boy who had approached as the two girls were busy speaking. Both witches eyed the red and gold trim on the boys robes for a moment before looking up and waiting for him to continue. "If you're waiting for Hermione, I…I don't think she's coming."

"Why not?" Tracey asked angrily, causing the boy to shy away a bit. The young witch held a certain dislike for the members of the Gryffindor house for how they were treating Hermione.

"What's your name?" Daphne suddenly asked in a kinder, gentler tone as she stepped a bit in front of Tracey.

"Neville. Neville Longbottom," the boy replied with a shocked expression, uncertain what to make of Daphne. _First one yells at me and then the next one talks to me as if we're friends. Why are girls so frightening confusing?_

"Neville, do you know why Hermione won't be here?" Daphne enquired, keeping her voice low and friendly with a smile on her face.

"Some of our housemates got into a row with her in the common room," Neville told them. "It seems they were a bit put out that she stopped winning points for the House. They pretty much told her that they didn't want her there anymore and that she should go move her things down to the dungeons."

"They didn't!" Tracey and Daphne gasped together only to see the boys nod ever so slightly.

"Apparently most of the Gryffindor's were present and no one said anything," Neville continued. Upon seeing twin angry glares directed at him he quickly added, "I wasn't there at the time. I only just heard about it though."

"So they're trying to force her out of the tower," Daphne said as she thought over this latest piece of news.

"Can they even do that?" Neville asked.

"I don't think so," Daphne replied to the wizard absently as she wondered what they should do.

"They don't need to force her out though," Tracey said, suddenly speaking up. "All they need to do is make her life miserable enough while there that she asks to be removed."

"Where is she now?" Daphne enquired. _If I can't be there for Harry, at least I can be there when Hermione needs me_.

"I…I saw her run into the girl's room on the first floor when I was coming back from the greenhouse earlier. The one closest to the stairway," Neville told them. "She was crying," he added in a subdued tone.

"Thanks, Longbottom!" Tracey exclaimed, reaching out and giving the boys arm a squeeze before she and Daphne turned and ran off in the direction of the girl's loo on the first floor.

Neville stood there for several long moments with a befuddled look upon his face and cheeks as bright as ripe tomatoes. "Y…your welcome," he finally managed to stammer out, long after the two witches were gone. Turning, the dazed Gryffindor wizard stumbled into the great hall.

**-oOo-**

Harry ascended the stairs from the Dungeons, uncertain if he should count himself fortunate or worry about being in some sort of trouble. Escaping the Slytherin common room he had turned right instead of left towards the stairway, as he was fearful that Draco and the others would follow him so that they could make further fun of him. His wandering feet had lead him into a large room that was filled with ghosts who were in the midst of some sort of celebration. Being the only living soul present Harry had instantly become the center of attention. One ghost in particular, Sir Nicholas, had seemed to be very reluctant to allow him leave.

_I wonder if the others are at the feast_ , the young wizard pondered as he walked down the hallway. _It has been hard to being around others today. I just don't know what I should do._ The young lad was ill prepared for the multitude of emotions he was experiencing. Harry thought of discussing it with his new friends but had dismissed that idea. _I would talk to them but I don't want to trouble them with my own problems._

"Mr. Potter?" spoke up a surprised voice from behind the boy.

Harry paused and turned about. "Good evening, Professor Sinistra. Please, just Harry," the boy added, causing them both to smile slightly at the repeated reminder for her to call him by his first name.

"How are you, Harry?" Aurora asked as she stepped from the adjacent hallway and approached to within conversational distance of the first year student. Now that she knew what to look for, thanks to the discussion she had with Poppy, the signs were clear to see. _I don't know how I managed to miss them in the first place._ Seeing the boy shrug slightly and drop his eyes to the floor the young professor could tell that something was amiss. "On your way to the feast?"

"No. Ma`am," Harry replied softly. "I'm not much in the mood for a celebration," he added upon glancing up and seeing the professor's questioning look.

"No," Aurora intoned slowly as if thinking about it. "I guess you really wouldn't be. Follow me," the Astronomy Professor instructed before turning sharply about and marching off in the direction leading away from the great hall. Harry, left with little choice in the matter, hurried after. The two of them passed down several corridors before entering a part of the castle that Harry had never been in before.

"P…Professor, where are we going?" Harry finally dared to ask.

"You'll see," came the ambiguous reply over the professor's shoulder. Several turns later and a few more corridors finally saw the dark skinned professor stopping before a door to what appeared to be a classroom. Aurora turned and offered the boy a small smile before she opened the door and motioned for him to enter ahead of her.

Harry did as instructed and stepped into a room not unlike the ones he currently sat his classes in. The one difference was that this room was filled with musical instruments. "W…what is this place, Professor?" Harry asked as he looked about with wide eyes at all the instruments, each well cleaned and cared for.

Aurora followed the first year in, closing the door behind her. "I guess you might call this my sanctuary, Harry," she replied as she moved past him and down the stairs to the main floor of the room. "When I was a student here, not so long ago, I happen upon this room one day. It struck me as rather sad that all these instruments were just sitting here not being used."

Harry, who had followed his professor down to the main floor of the room paused beside a piano, one finger running lightly over the covering of the keys. "Are there no music classes here, Professor?"

"Not for a long time," Aurora informed him. "There are a great many classrooms such as this that haven't seen a student for many a decade if not longer," the young professor added as she walked over and gently ran her hand across the strings of a large harp which had a seat situated behind it. "Do you play anything, Harry?" Aurora asked, turning to look at the boy.

"Piano a bit," Harry confessed, feeling slightly embarrassed. "My aunt loved to hear the piano so she saw to it that I learned how to play." Harry's aunt had instructed him with lessons so that she herself wouldn't have to play and yet she would still be able to listen to her beloved piano. Harry had been six at the time and had showed promise for the instrument, rapidly picking it up much as he had the cooking and house cleaning. For nearly two years he had played for his aunt till one fateful day his uncle Vernon had arrive home early without calling ahead of time. The very next day the piano had been sold. In the end his aunt had reasoned it was Harry's fault that her piano was gone, a fact she never forgave him for.

_How selfish! To have a child learn to play an instrument just so she could hear it!_ Aurora thought angrily. "Did you enjoy playing, Harry?"

Harry gave a dismissive shrug, "I guess," he replied. The young boy had greatly enjoyed playing the piano as it allowed him to produce a beautiful sound that had pleased his aunt. _I think that is perhaps the only time she was ever close to being happy that I was there_ , he thought recalling that time. _Not that she would ever admit it_. "Do you play, Professor?"

"You know, I think it is a bit unfair that you make me call you by your first name and yet you still call me Professor," Aurora said as she walked around the large harp. "I think you should call me Aurora to make it even," she added with a grin.

"B...but…but you're a professor," Harry exclaimed, defensively.

"Do you call your friends by their last names?" Aurora asked as her fingertips brushed the strings of the harp once more, pausing to pluck several different ones.

"No," Harry admitted in a slightly confused tone as he attempted to reason out what she meant. "A…are you my friend?" the confused boy finally asked.

"I would like to be, Harry," Aurora answered as she seated herself in the seat behind the large harp. "I was, with your parents," the witch added, instantly catching the boy's attention.

"You knew my parents?" Harry asked, surprised to find out what he had just been told.

"I did," Aurora confirmed as she moved the chair forward a bit till the curve of the harp rested against her shoulder. "Though not for very long I fear as they were…," her words trailed off as she found it difficult to continue as it might cause him pain and suffering.

"Because they were killed by Voldemort," Harry stated in a flat and emotionless tone as he dropped onto the piano bench.

"Yes," Aurora replied with as her hands gently plucked several strings on the harp, drawing forth a soft tune. "Does that bother you, Harry?" Once again Harry gave a slight shrug without raising his eyes to look at the harpist. "It's alright if you'd prefer not to speak of it," the young professor offered after several long moments had passed.

"Honestly, I don't know how to feel about it," Harry mumbled, just barely loud enough to be heard over the music of the harp. "For the longest time I thought that they had died in a drunken automobile accident," Harry told her. "That was all my aunt and uncle would tell me. I guess in that sense I am a little glad as they died for something."

"Lily and James Potter were wonderful people, Harry," Aurora offered. "There are a great many people who wouldn't be here if it weren't for them. They stood up for what they thought was right and were willing to fight for their beliefs."

"I know," Harry replied, a slightly heated edge to his tone. "I've read all about them in the library. They stood up for their beliefs and it cost them their lives. A lot of good that did their son," he added in a tone tinged with anger as well as pain.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Aurora said. "I know it couldn't have been easy growing up without them. They wanted you to have a life free of the Dark Lord. They gave their lives so that you and others could have that. Knowing that must be of little consolation at this time and it must hurt a great-"

Harry gave out a humorless snort, cutting off the astronomy professor in mid-sentence. "That's the confusing part. People believe that I must be feeling terrible because they were killed. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, when they did not. I can see it in their eyes when they look at me," Harry told her. "Actually I can't remember my parents at all. It's hard to miss something you've never known, so I don't _feel_ anything. When I realized that I think I must be a horrible person for not feeling anything for the ones who gave me life. Am I a terrible person, Professor? A freak of some kind?" Harry suddenly asked, his head jerking up to regard the rooms only other occupant.

Aurora beheld the pleading look in Harry's emerald eyes and her heart went out to the boy. _With the life he's had it's no wonder he would feel as he does. He's never had anything good in his life._ Setting the hard to rest the witch arose and walked over to where Harry sat and then kneelt down before the boy and took his hands in hers. "No, Harry. Terrible things sometimes happen to good people," Aurora told him softly. "That's what happened to your parents…and yourself, Harry. Not having feelings for something you've never known doesn't mean you're a bad person. The very fact that you can question that as much proves that you're a good person!" Aurora told him forcibly. "You have a good and kind heart, Harry Potter."

Harry thought over her words for a long moment, wanting to believe her. _Is she right? Can I really not feel anything because I didn't really know them_ , he asked himself. _I do feel a bit proud that they were trying to help myself and other. Better that than dying because they were driving drunk one night as uncle Vernon told it! I just don't know how I should feel_.

Harry suddenly realized that despite everything he did feel slightly better. _Maybe talking about it with someone else helped? Would it help if I told the others?_ Harry continued to regard his professor as his thoughts jumped from one thing to another before a measure of calmness came to him once again. "Please Professor, just Harry," he finally said, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.

Aurora froze for a moment, surprised by the levity of the boy, but was quick to recover. "Only if you call me Aurora," she replied only to quickly raise a hand to forestall Harry objections. "When we are in here," she added with a wave of her hand to indicate the music room itself. "Can you do that for a friend, Harry?" Harry gave a slow hesitant nod of acceptance. "Thank you, Harry."

"Prof…I mean Aurora," the boy quickly corrected upon seeing the witch before him begin to scowl. "C…can you tell me about my parents? I may not know them, however that doesn't mean that I don't _want_ to know them…if that make sense?"

"How about we save that for next time," Aurora suggested. "I believe you have a feast to get to."

"I'm really not all that hungry," Harry objected with.

"You're a far braver person than I am then, Harry," Aurora answered with, only to see the boys puzzled expression. "Today is Thursday, which means you need to go to the Hospital wing for your treatment," the dark-haired witch reminded him. "I wouldn't want to have go before Madam Pomfrey if I hadn't followed her directions and ate the way I was supposed to." It was all she could do to keep from laughing as Harry's face drained of color. "Off with you now," Aurora added jerking her head towards the door as she said so.

Harry stepped forward and put his arms around the kneeling witch even as he kissed her cheek. "Thank you, A…Aurora," he said, only stumbling slightly over the use of her name.

Shocked at first by the boy's actions, she never the less was quick to return the hug. "Whatever was that for," she asked over the boy's shoulder.

"I feel loads better for having spoken with you, and…" Harry replied as he stepped back a bit, "…friends hug their girl friends goodbye."

_Whatever have those three been teaching him?_ Aurora thought to herself. "Yes….yes they do, Harry," the witch replied. _Whatever it is they've done a remarkable job of it!_ "I'm sure there are three young witches anxiously awaiting your arrival at the feast. So scram!" Aurora said with a grin as she nudged Harry towards the door. The wizard paused upon reaching to doorway long enough to shoot her a bright smile and wave once before he was gone. Slowly the astronomy professor raised a hand to her blushing cheeks. "Damn, he got me again," she breathed. Shaking her head to clear it, Aurora rose and cast a silencing spell upon the room before returning to the seat behind the harp and starting to play, a soft smile stuck upon her features.

**-oOo-**

"Hermione?" Daphne called tentatively after she and Tracey had entered the girl's loo in search of their missing Gryffindor friend.

The sound of hushed crying and hasty sniffles could be clearly heard in the quiet room. "Go away," a pain filled voice finally replied from the end stall. "Please, just leave me be," it begged in a voice thick with emotions and tears.

The two Slytherin girl's exchanged worried looks before moving down along the stalls, finally stopping just outside the one their missing friend was in. "Not going to happen, Granger," Tracey told the distraught girl behind the closed door.

A soft mirthless chuckle, accented by a sniffle was heard. "It makes sense. Everyone else wants nothing to do with me, yet when I ask people to leave me be, they won't. Can things possibly get any more messed up than that?" Hermione asked aloud.

"We're your friends, Hermione," Daphne replied, disliking the despair she could here in the girl's voice. _Whatever they said to Hermione must have hurt her badly_ , she realized.

"For now," the bushy-hair witch scoffed. "How long before you want nothing to do with me as well?"

"Why don't you open the door and find out," Tracey replied in an attempt to draw her out of the stall the witch had closeted herself within.

"Do you think I should just be a good little girl and go back to the Muggles where I belong, as well?" Hermione asked through the door. "That's what they told me. That no one wants me here and I would be better off going back to just being a Muggle," she told them, spitting out the last word as if it left a foul taste in her mouth.

Daphne sighed upon hearing tearful sobs from the other side of the door and at what had been said to cause them. "They're right foul gits, your housemates, and that Weasley is just a stupid silly boy!" she snapped, her anger getting the better of her at what the Weasley boy had done to her friend.

"They're all stupid silly boys," Tracey added, attempting to lighten the mood a bit. "Well, maybe not Harry," the auburn-haired Slytherin added as an afterthought.

Daphne's eye lit up at the mention of the bespectacled wizard. _Of course!_ she thought to herself. "You can't possibly believe that Harry would ever think that of you, Hermione? After all he's as much your first friend as you are his!"

There was a long moment of silence only broken by a thoughtful sniffle. "N…no…Harry wouldn't do that," Hermione finally admitted aloud. _Harry, I think, needs me as much as I need him_ , the young witch thought as she pondered Daphne's words. _We're two of a kind, he and I_.

"I bet Harry is at the feast right now waiting for us," Tracey offered, picking up on exactly what Daphne was trying to do. "I would hate not to be there for him. He'd have to sit and listen to Zabini go on and on about Quidditch." Tracey exchanged a grin with Daphne as they both heard a humorous snort issue from behind the closed door.

"At least come out and talk to us about it," Daphne suggested. "We're not going to leave till you do," the Slytherin witch threatened. "Harry will just have to have his ears talked off," she added with a smirk.

There was the faint sound of the latch being drawn. "Alright. Alright, you win," Hermione said opening the door as she hastily wiped at her cheeks. "I must look ghastly!" As soon as the Gryffindor witch cleared the doorway she found herself the recipient of simultaneous hugs. "Thanks," Hermione finally managed to get out past the lump in her throat, touched that Tracey and Daphne cared so much for her.

"Next time don't forget that we're your friends and you can come and talk to us about anything," Daphne chided her.

"Not that we don't like hanging out in the girl's loo, mind you," Tracey added with an infectious grin that soon had the other two smiling as well.

"I'll remember," Hermione promised Daphne. "I...I guess I just felt so overwhelmed. I didn't want to bother Harry again as he has enough to deal with. I didn't know what else to do. It was easier to hide away and just do nothing."

"So Harry knew?" Tracey asked, quickly picking up on that detail. Hermione gave a slow uncertain nod and then proceeded to tell them everything, including her and Harry's visit to Professor Sinistra. "You should have told us," Tracey said after hearing the girl out. "We could have figured something out so that it didn't look like you were spending all your time with us."

"Tracey's right! We've been worried half sick about you all this time," Daphne scolded disapprovingly, her arms akimbo. "Apparently for good reason too!"

"I'm terribly sorry," Hermione replied, feeling bad that she had caused them such trouble. "I didn't want you to worry which is why I didn't say anything. It seems I inadvertently caused you to worry even more."

"It's as much Harry's fault as it is yours," Daphne told the apologetic witch. "Seriously! Doesn't he realize that we're not his relatives and we'll actually help him?" the mildly irate witch asked in an exasperated tone, only afterwards realizing what exactly she had said.

"What about Harry's relatives?" Hermione asked with an arched brow, instantly attentive at the mention of her favorite wizard.

"W…well…," Daphne stammered as she tried to cover what she had accidently let slip. "I mean, with the way he tried to handle it on his own. He must have been forced to grow up rather self-reliant, I should think," she explained, suddenly finding her mouth devoid of moisture. "It just strikes me that if that weren't the case he would have asked for help."

"What is that awful smell?" Tracey suddenly exclaimed halting the conversation as Hermione and Daphne suddenly noticed the odor as well. All three girls turned and looked as the doors to the room opened and a large green behemoth entered, having to bend severely at the waist to even get through the doorframe. It quickly became apparent just where the foul odor was emanating from. As one, the three witches let out an ear piercing scream which caused the troll to scream as well.

**-oOo-**

Harry retraced his steps after making several wrong turns but finally managed to find the corridor which would lead him back towards the grand stairway. _I should apologize to them_ , he reasoned as he walked along. _I've been avoiding them all day and I'm certain that they are worried about me._ It still amazed him that he had friends who would worry about his wellbeing. Harry grinned as he heard Tracey's voice chastising him for not coming to talk with them sooner.

The young wizards thought were interrupted as a shrill scream echoed down the stone corridor only to be followed by a bellow of anger that Harry was fairly certain hadn't come from any human's throat. Without even thinking about it the young wizard broke into a sprint in the direction of the scream he had heard. _Whatever could have made that noise_ , he wondered even as he realized that the first scream was that of a girl's. Reaching the corner the boy paused, uncertain of just where to go when there was a sudden crashing sound that emanated from the girl's loo, quickly followed by several terror filled screams.

Harry quickly drew his wand as he ran towards the location of the screams. The young boy paused at the entrance to the room, realizing that he was about to tread where no boy ought to, the girl's loo. The sound of splintering woods and frightened screams drove him forward through the doorway. Entering the room the young wizard froze in his tracks.

The scene which greeted his eyes was like something out of a nightmare. The stalls in the room had been reduced to little more than kindling. Several of the porcelain washbasins were broken and lay upon the floor in pieces as water sprayed from the walls where they once were affixed. Harry's eyes were instantly drawn to the enormous creature standing before him though. _What is that?_ A distant corner of his mind wondered absently even as he realized that whatever it was, it reeked of something foul.

"Hermione!" Harry heard Tracey's scared voice call out, snapping the wizard from his stunned state. A quick glance between the monster's legs showed him the auburn-haired witch and Daphne trying to pull Hermione out from under a pile of wooden fragments which must have been the last two stalls only moments before.

Harry thrust his wand out before him as his mind screamed the word to a second year spell he had read about. _Diffindo!_ The severing charm hit the back of the troll's leg, doing little damage due to the creature's thick skin. The creature didn't even seem to feel it. Harry watched in horror as the troll raised its huge wooden club and brought it down swiftly in an attempt to squash the three witches who barely managed to avoid the blow. Their actions however moved them into the corner where they had nowhere left to run to. Another _Diffindo_ had as little effect on the creature as the first had.

_They're going to die!_ Harry's mind screamed as fear for his friends gripped his heart in its cold grasp. _I can't save them!_ Anger at his own inability to do anything flared within the young wizard. _They're my friends! They've always been there for me. I have to save them!_ A soft rushing sound, not unlike a heavy breeze blowing through the branches of the Forbidden Forest, started within Harry's mind. As his anger grew at his own failure to protect his friends, the sound blossomed into that of a rapidly flowing river, gaining in strength with each passing heartbeat. As the Troll raised its club again, Harry let loose once again with a _Diffindo._ The spell, powered by Harry's own fear and anger, opened a long gouge along the back of the creature's leg which started to bleed profusely.

The Troll bellowed in pain and surprise as the gash appeared in its flesh. Turning to see who had dared attack it from behind it spotted the young wizard standing there with his raised wand. Even as the presence of the small boy registered within the creatures mind, pain flared in the troll's chest as it was hit with another overpowered spell. Reacting instinctually, the troll slammed down its club in an effort to protect itself from further harm.

Harry stumbled backwards, barely being missed by the enormous club after hitting the troll in the chest with another spell. _Incendio!_ Harry watched as the wooden club burst into flames. _Great! I've given it an even better weapon_ , Harry realized as he turned tail and ran through the double doors of the loo and out into the hallway. The doors behind him exploded in a shower of sparks, wood and flames as the burning club slammed through the obstructions, making short work of it. The force of the explosion knocked the boy across the hall and into the wall.

Harry scrambled to his feet, wincing as a sharp pain flared to life in his left side. The injured wizard turned about just in time to see the troll exiting the girl's loo in pursuit of him. _Am I going to die?_ the distant corner of Harry's mind wondered as he slowly started to back away from the beast. The noise within Harry's head grew in intensity from a river to that of raging white rapids. _I need to get it away from the girls_ , he told himself as he tossed off another _Diffindo_ , opening a gash along the troll's forearm and causing it to bellow out in pain.

The three witches slowly made their way out of the destroyed room, wondering just who had saved them. They could tell that spells had been used yet none of them had heard a single word spoken. "We should go find more professors to help," Daphne said as all three of them stared at the retreating back of the mountain troll that had attacked them. "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey as well," she added, seeing Hermione clutch an injured arm to her chest. From the bushy-haired witch's expression it was easy to tell she was in a great amount of pain.

"I wasn't quiet fast enough that last time," Hermione said upon seeing the concern on their faces. Her left arms was hurting a great deal and might even be broken she realized. When she had dove for cover as the troll had swung at the last stalls, its club had grazed her arm. "I'll be alright," she added, putting on a brave face despite the growing pain.

"Harry!" Tracey suddenly exclaimed staring down the hall. The other two witches turned to look in the same direction only to see the dark-haired wizard backing through the archway which lead to the grand stairway, with the troll following after him as it swung its burning club back and forth before it. "It was Harry," Tracey adding in a disbelieving tone as fear for their friend clutched at all their hearts.

Harry continued to back away from the advancing troll even as he fired off another _Diffindo_ , opening another gash along the creature chest. It appeared as though the thick leather vest the creature was wearing had absorbed a good portion of the spell's damage though. Within, Harry could feel the magic building, much as it had within the library during the pin incident. _I can't lose control here. I have to get further away from them._ It was only a matter of time before he lost the battle, either with the troll or with the magic fighting to break free of his waning control.

The first year wizard continued to retreat, drawing the enraged creature with him by continually tossing spells at it. _Why won't it die?_ the small portion of his mind that was still rational asked. _I swear I'm going to learn more spells if I survive this!_ The troll's chest and arms were covered by at least a dozen cuts. Distracted by his own thoughts the wizard had to hastily dive out of the way of the fiery club and was only partially successful as pain exploded in his thigh.

Harry rolled when he hit the floor to gain some distance from his attacker, coming to a stop at the foot of the grand stairway. A quick glance down at his leg revealed the reason for the pain as his kin smoldered where the fire had severely burned him. _I have to get it away from here_ , he thought as he raised his wand and flames poured forth from its tip, driving back the advancing monster. Ignoring the pain as best her could, the boy stood and grasped hold of the railing, before he started to climb the stairs one step at a time.

_Everyone should be at the feast_ , he reasoned as the churning magic within him continued to struggle to break free. "Not yet," he said aloud, his first words spoken since entering the girl's loo. Reaching the landing the boy turned about and watched as the troll reached the foot of the stairs, a puzzled expression appearing on its face. Any hope that Harry had of the creature not being able to use the stairs vanished as it placed its foot upon the stone stairway.

Harry could hear the steps crumble under the weight of the monster and the staircase itself seemed to groan in distress. _I have to lead it higher_ , he thought as he made his way up the next flight of stairs to the second floor. Behind him he could hear the troll laboriously following in pursuit. Due to its longer legs it was climbing at a much faster rate than the first year wizard.

The Slytherin wizard cried out in pain as shards of stone assailed him, several of which cut through his clothing to lodge themselves within his back. Quickly looking over his shoulder, Harry saw the troll pulling its club from the wreckage of the stairs directly behind him. The troll had tried to hit him and as the weapon crushed the stairs it had sent stone fragments flying like projectiles in all directions.

His quick glance had also shown him the three witches that were watching anxiously from the corridor opening leading to the girl's loo. Even as he watched he saw all three cast spells which seemed to be completely ignored by the troll pursuing him. _Why are they there? They should have gotten away already!_

Harry raised his wand to cast another spell only to fall backwards. Having taken his eyes from the troll he had failed to realize that it was attempting to hit him once again. Falling back upon the stairs saved his life but not his foot which exploded in white hot pain as the club landed upon it. The troll, seeing its prey helpless, raised its burning weapon for the killing blow.

_I…I don't want to die!_ Harry screamed silently as he raised his hand in a futile attempt to protect himself from death. Consumed by fear and blinding pain, the magic within the boy sprung forth from the raised appendage in a dazzling ray of molten magical energy which struck the raised club, causing it to instantly explode into a million pieces. The troll, unaware that its weapon had been destroyed, continued with its swing only to pause and look at the piece of club that yet remained in its hand. Its small brain couldn't comprehend where the rest of the club had vanished to.

Using the beast's momentary distraction, Harry used his arms to pull himself up to the third floor landing. It wasn't long before the troll was once again climbing the stairs after him. _I have to go higher_ , he told himself one again. He could feel the magic inside straining to come free again. "They're too close. Can't risk injuring them," he said aloud as he started to work his way up the stairs to the fourth floor.

By the time he had reach the landing midway between the third and fourth floor he had reached his physical limit. Never a particularly strong boy to begin with, Harry's muscles quivered as he propped himself up against the railing, too exhausted to go further. _This will have to be far enough_ , he reasoned as he watched the troll's head ominously come into view as it climbed the stairway from the third floor.

Just as the young wizard was ready to surrender to the raging power within him, the stairway shifted, moving the stairs he was on away from the ones that the troll was even then climbing. The troll, upon reaching the top of the stairs went to take the next step only there was nothing for its foot to rest upon. Seeing the beast teetering upon the edge of the stairs Harry yelled _Accio Monster!_ As he pointed his wand at the troll. Magic, being mostly concerned with intent, didn't care that the monster was a troll, only that the caster thought it was a monster.

_If I can just pull him a bit forward he'll fall_ , had been the wizard's thought, certain that the plummet would kill it. The distance between Harry and the troll was just long enough for the first year wizard to recall the warning which was part of the Summoning spell. ' _This spell should not be used on items that are larger and heavier than the caster_.' Harry flew through the air till he came to a rather abrupt stop when he collided with the troll's chest. Instinctually the boy grabbed ahold of the creatures leather vest to keep from falling nearly four levels to the stone floor below. The impact of the small boy had apparently been efficient enough to push the teetering troll back so that it regained its balance.

The two combatants eyed each other with equal parts surprise and confusion. Harry absently realized that his wand had somehow ended up lodged within the creatures nose a goodly way. There was a long moment of utter silence, broken only by the ominous creaking of the stairs they stood upon, then Harry yelled in fear and the troll bellowed in anger and reached for the small boy.

"NO!" Harry screamed, the wild magic within him finally bursting free of his control. There was a moment of intense heat and then what sounded like a clap of thunder before Harry found himself falling through the air only to land upon something hard and unyeilding. _At least I can't feel the pain in my foot anymore_ , he absently thought as his sight started to dim. He had lost his glasses during the fall and without them the world looked upside-down for some reason it seemed. "I hope they're alright," Harry mumbled, his last thoughts being concern for his friends before darkness claimed him.

**-oOo-**

"HARRY!" all three witches on the first floor screamed at once. Their friend had seemed doomed for certain only for them to see the stairs shift, taking him away from harm. The next instant they had stared in disbelief as The-Boy-Who-Lived was suddenly flying through the air directly at the troll. It wasn't but a moment more before the troll's entire head just seemed to vanish and then its entire body glowed a brilliant blue and exploded in a bright flash of magical energy.

What had caused all three witches to scream though was the sight of Harry's body falling through the air. Each girl knew they were watching the last moment of their friend's life. Just when there appeared to be no hope at all, the stairway to the second floor chose that moment to move. The young wizard's body landing on its back over a railing with a sickening thud one wouldn't normal attribute to a human body making. It sounded more akin to a carcass being thrown upon the table by some butcher instead.

"We have to get him!" Tracey yelled as she raced towards the stairway with Daphne and Hermione only a step behind as the remnants of the troll rained down around them.

"We have to be careful moving him," Hermione cautioned. "If his back is injured we could do serious harm to him."

The three witches hastened up the stairs, the figures in the paintings urging them on, till they reached the landing only to see that the stairs which Harry was currently precariously dangling from had stopped moving while it was still out in the middle of the stairwell. The distance between where they were and he was currently was far too great for them to leap cross.

"Let's levitate him," Tracey suggested.

"We'll have to do it all together," Daphne reasoned. "He's far heavier than a feather is." Tracey and Hermione nodded in agreement, the latter of the two still holding her injured arm to her chest as she gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pain racing up the damaged stairs had caused her.

All three witches raised their wands, equally determined expressions upon their tear streaked faces as they intoned the charm, _Wingardium Leviosa!_ Slowly the unconscious wizard's body rose from the railing and floated towards the witches. Working together they managed to bring Harry to them and gently lay him upon the landing they were on.

"I need a house elf!" Daphne snapped as she took Harry's cold hand in hers.

There was a small ' _POP_ ' and suddenly there was a small creature with large ears and big wide eyes standing beside Daphne. "Whats can Bizzel do for you young Miss?" it asked with an eager smile.

"We need Madam Pomfrey and any other professors you can gather quickly!" the blonde witch exclaimed.

The startled house elf blinked, suddenly realizing the state that the students were in, covered with dirt as well as the blood and gore as well amidst the destruction that was spread about the scene around them. Without a further word the elf disappeared only to reappear in the midst of the great hall before the Headmaster of Hogwarts.


	16. An Afternoon Of Quidditch

“Blast that damnable Snape!” fumed Quirinus Quirrell as he paced back and forth within his room. “I would have had the bloody stone if not for him!” _Why must life never go as planned for me?_ he thought rhetorically to himself as he pivoted and paced back in the other direction. The Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor really wanted to break something at the moment, Snape’s neck currently being at the top of the list.

The Fates had not been kind Quirinus, or so he felt. Gifted with a brilliant mind, even at a young age he had stood out from his peers. Rather than being beneficial this had caused him to be tormented and laughed at by the other children. His quiet and often timid nature didn’t help at all. While other children laughed and played outside, he preferred to read and learn. The other boys his age took great delight in bullying him as well as teasing him at great length.

As the young boy grew older and began to attend classes at Hogwarts, he discovered the other cruel gift that the Fates had bequeathed to him. While his mind excelled at theoretical spells and defensive magic, some calling him a prodigy, it became apparent rather quickly that he didn’t have the aptitude to enact his theories. His ability to perform magic was not on par with his ability to theorize and extrapolate new spells.

This is not to say that he was a bad wizard, just the opposite actually. He was a very good wizard, excelling at charms, transfiguration as well as wandless magic. His magical capabilities, however did not match his brilliant mind. His OWLs scores had been very high, which had aided considerably in obtaining him the Muggle Studies position at Hogwarts. It was only this year that he had moved to the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. A position widely believed to be cursed due to the fact that no one lasted more than a year in the position.

_I’ll show them! I’ll show them all_ , he angrily mused to himself, recalling his vow. _Everyone who laughed at me while sneering down their noses will see just how great of a wizard I am!_ It was the man’s desire to prove himself to the world, as well as to himself, that had lead him into taking a sabbatical from teaching last year and go on a grand tour of the world. In truth he had set out to find what remained of Lord Voldemort. His brilliant mind had theorized that the Dark Lord had not been completely killed by the Potter baby that Halloween night.

_If I can find proof that the Dark Lord still exists then they will take notice of me_ , he recalled believing back then. _Perhaps I can persuade him into teaching me some of what he knows in order to keep my silence for a time?_ It had all seemed so simple…so unbelievably easy, that he hadn’t given a great deal of thought to what the worse outcome could be. In a dark forest in Albania the Professor had finally found the object of his search.

_I was ill prepared_ , Quirinus admitted to himself reluctantly. He had read all there was concerning the Dark Lord and believed himself capable of facing whatever Voldemort had become. _Perhaps I shouldn’t have gone alone?_ The memory of his encounter with the essence of Lord Voldemort still haunted his dreams. The formless dark cloud that had engulfed him and seeped into his body via any opening it could find. “Then again, I’m never alone now,” he mumbled aloud with a shudder. It hadn’t taken long for Voldemort t over-power the weaker will of the Muggle Studies Professor.

_You do not have the stone_ , hissed a rough voice within the professor’s mind. The sound not unlike the rustling of dead leaves across the forest floor. _You have failed me yet again!_

“It is not my fault, Master,” Quirrell protested. “I did just as you said and let the troll into the school. I had no sooner stepped within the Great Hall to inform everyone of this when a house elf appeared right before Dumbledore and informed him of the matter. The Headmaster forbade anyone to leave the great hall for fear they would encounter the beast. Instead he led a group of others to investigate. I barely managed to get away without being discovered.”

_Then why do you stand here without the stone?_ enquired the Dark Lord with an angry hiss that caused the teacher to shudder and flinch as if he was about to be struck. _Surely there was confusion enough for even you to acquire it._

“Snape! It was Snape, my Lord,” Quirrell hastily replied. “He must have suspected that something was a foot. When I reached the third floor he was already there ahead of me,” he informed Voldemort. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had narrowly missed being spotted by the Potions Master. “He must have gone directly there to check on the stone, Master.” Quirrell had remained hidden long enough to see the Potions Master narrowly miss having his leg bitten off by the whatever was behind the door where the stone was being kept. “There must have been some secret passage or some other means that allowed him to arrive before me,” Quirrell whined.

There were several long moments of silence before the Dark Lord spoke once again. _Severus must still be acting the part of a spy_ , the gravelly voice mused within Quirrell’s head. _The old fool hasn’t a clue that he one of my most loyal servant’s working with him._

Quirrell thought for a moment before daring to ask what had just come to mind. “If Snape is loyal to you, then perhaps he can help us acquire the stone?”

The Dark Lord remained silent for several long moments as it pondered the idea. It wasn’t a bad idea but Voldemort wasn’t so sure about giving up one of his best spies. _No. He is far too important to me where he is_ , Voldemort finally decided. _I will need him there once I am whole again. I grow weary for now. You will need to find another way to sustain me._

“Yes, my Lord,” Quirrell stammered quickly. “You have only to name it.”

_You will to go into the Forbidden Forest and find a Unicorn_ , the Dark Lord told his servant. _Kill the beast and drink its blood. Yes, that should do nicely, I think,”_ the shade of the Dark Lord murmured within the Professors head _._

“B...but, Master, won’t that kill me?” Quirrell timidly asked. He well understood that killing a unicorn, a creature who was so pure and good, was a heinous act. The perpetrator of such a malicious act as drinking the beast’s blood would be cursed to live a half-life at best or an excruciatingly painful death at worst. Neither aspect of which the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor found particularly appealing at the moment. “Surely there is another way, my Lord Voldemort?” Quirrell questioned.

_Fool!_ snapped the angry voice in Quirinus’s head. _If you die than I must find another host. While I might find one more befitting my plans, I do not intend to waste the time it would take to accomplish that. You will drink the blood and it will sustain me and I will then sustain you._ The essence of the Dark Lord didn’t include the ‘ _for the time being_ ’ that it was thinking.

**-oOo-**

The devastation had been unimaginable. _If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I may very well have doubted it_ , Albus confessed to himself with a slight shake of his head. Upon the sudden appearance of the Hogwarts elf in the great hall, he, along with several of those seated at the main table, had hastened to the Grande Stairway. There was a collective gasp with several expletives from a few of the professors as they stared in utter disbelief at the scene before them.

There was an eerie silence which seemed to hang thick within the very air. The portraits, perhaps for the first time ever, were so silent that one might believe they were muggle paintings rather than the wizardry ones that they were. The floor and stairs were covered in bits of flesh, bone and blood as if some bizarre fisherman had been chumming the floor in the hopes of attracting sharks. In the stillness of the stairway could be heard the unmistakable sound of soft, heart wrenching crying. Hearing those sorrowful sobs and given the gory scene before him, the Headmaster felt his heart ache as he realized that a student most certainly must have perished in some horrendous manner.

Leading the charge up the ruined stairs Albus followed the sound of crying till he came upon its source. What he saw there was the last thing he had expected. The Davis girl sat with a boy’s head cradled in her lap, gently stroking the boy’s willful black locks. The Granger and Greengrass girls each help one of the boy’s hands, their touch both desperate and yet gentle at the same time. The boy himself was covered in blood and dirt from head to toe. It was readily apparent that the young wizard had sustained numerous injuries. His clothes were mangled so badly that it took the Headmaster a moment to realize that he was wearing a Hogwarts school robe. As the aged wizard noticed the green striping on the robe he felt a cold sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. A quick glance to the youth’s forehead revealed, in strangely enough the only clean spot on the boy’s face, the famous lightning bolt scar.

As if by magic Madam Pomfrey suddenly appeared and took charge of the situation. The young Potter boy was immobilized to prevent any further possible damage to his body, before he was whisked away to the hospital wing of the school. Once safely tucked within the mediwitch’s domain the elder witch set right to work on Harry. _It had been touch and go for a while_ , the Headmaster recalled as he shifted in his seat, _yet Poppy managed to pull off yet another miracle._

“Headmaster?” asked a sleepy voice from the bed next to where the aged wizard was presently seated.

“Harry,” Albus offered with a warm, caring smile. “Back among the living I see. Gave us quiet the fright I dare say. It took Madam Pomfrey quite some time to patch you up, my boy.”

The memories of the events on the stairway suddenly flooded Harry’s consciousness. “My friends? Are they alright?” the young wizard asked in a pleading tone as he struggled to sit up only to discover that he hadn’t the strength for it. Assessing himself he only then realized that his upper torso as well as various other parts of his body were wrapped in bandages.

Albus reached out and placed a gentle restraining hand on the struggle boy’s shoulder. “They are fine, Harry,” he assured the anxious youth. “In no small part due to you. Though I can’t say that the Grande Stairway fared as well,” the Headmaster added with a slight chuckle. “Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, was most put out about it as I recall.”

“Sorry, Sir,” Harry offered as he attempted to reach for the nightstand and where he hoped to find his glasses. His arms felt as though they weighed a ton each and it was only with great difficulty that he was able to move them.

“How thoughtless of me,” Albus exclaimed upon seeing the boy’s feeble attempt to reach his glasses. “Allow me,” he offered, as he took up Harry’s round-lensed glasses and then slipped them on the injured wizard before leaning back in his seat once more.

“Thank you, Sir,” Harry offered. “They’re really alright?” he couldn’t help but ask again. His concern for his friends was all he could think of at the moment. Harry began to worry when the elder wizard didn’t answer right away.

Albus looked thoughtful for a moment before replying. “If memory serves me correctly, which is not always the case at my age,” the aged wizard offered with a small smile, “I do believe Miss Granger should be by momentarily as it is her turn to look in on you.” Seeing the puzzled expression on Harry’s face Albus continued to explain. “Your friends have been coming to check on you ever since you were brought here. Madam Pomfrey has allowed them to visit one at a time provided they did not disturb you or others under her care.”

“Ho…how long have I been here, Sir?” Harry asked, fearful of the answer. From what the Headmaster had just said he got the distinct impression that today was not Thursday.

The Headmaster’s smile vanished at the boy’s question. “Sadly, for several days. It is now late afternoon on Sunday I fear.”

Harry stared up at the ceiling above his bead. _Halloween was on Thursday_ , he thought to himself. _I’ve been in here for three days!_ The young wizard’s body hurt in so many places that he couldn’t even begin to name them all. Recalling the fight with the monster on the stairs and the numerous injures he was surprised he felt as well as he did. _No wonder it would take so long to heal up. I must have been a right mess when they brought me here!_

_At least the girls are alright._ “You’re sure they’re alright,” Harry suddenly asked again, fearful that the Headmaster might actually lie to him to keep him from becoming upset. _What if I wasn’t able to save them? Did my own magic injure them? Maybe I did_ …., he stopped that thought before he could follow it. There was just no way he could handle thinking that he might have done to them what he had done to the creature he fought on the stairs.

Albus smiled a bit upon seeing how concerned Harry was for his friends. “Yes, yes they are fine. Miss Granger had a broken arm,” Albus informed the young wizard. “Madam Pomfrey treated her and said it should be as good as new in another day or so.” The Headmaster was relieved to see the boy visibly relax. “I feel though that I must apologize to you, Harry, for what happened to you and your friends.”

“Apologize? To me?” Harry asked in disbelief only to see the elder wizard nod. “I wasn’t your fault, Sir.”

“I dare say it was, Harry,” Albus corrected him. “You see, I am the one that brought the troll to Hogwarts. I’m still not certain how it came to be where it was. It was meant for a certain task, one which it will no longer be able to perform I fear.”

“What task is that, Sir?” Harry asked. The young boy couldn’t believe that an adult was apologizing for something. The fact that he had been injured due to the Headmaster really hadn’t registered. The boy by now was used to being injured by adults. _So that thing was a troll_ , he thought to himself as he added it to his list of scary things to avoid in the future.

“There are times that wizards, as well as the Goblins, will employ trolls to guard certain items of importance,” the Headmaster explained rather vaguely. _Best to avoid mentioning the stone_ , he reasoned. _No need to concern the boy with it_. “They are simple creatures and immensely strong which make them furious foes to fight. Not many can go up against a full grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale, Harry.”

“Then how did I, Sir?” Harry asked in a confused tone. _If a grown wizard would have difficulties with one then I must have been extremely lucky_ , he reasoned to himself.

“I suspect that you magic protected you,” Albus told the inquisitive youth.

“Accidental magic, Sir?” Harry asked, fearing that once again he might have hurt his friends because he couldn’t control the very thing that made him a wizard. _How many others might I endanger while I try to learn how to control my magic? Is the entire school at risk?_ Not for the first time the young wizard thought that everyone would be a great deal safer if he wasn’t around.

“Perhaps,” Albus replied in a thoughtful tone as he contemplated the boy’s question. “Accidental magic, would seem to be the most logical assumption. There is a great deal that we do not as yet understand about it I fear, Harry. From what the young ladies that you rescued, from a most horrible fate I might add, have told us, it does seem as though it was accidental magic. A most remarkable feat, all the same my boy!”

“Sadly, there is still a great deal even about magic which we do not know or fully understand,” the Headmaster continued with. “I dare say it is not the wisest course but we have become rather compliant, where magic is concerned. As long as it works and allows us to do what we want we do not care so much about the hows and whys of it all. I’m certain your young lady friends would have a thing or two to say about that,” Albus added with a soft chuckle.

Harry lay there in deep thought for several long moments thinking over what the Headmaster had imparted to him. In his mind he could see once more the trolls head vanishing in an instant only to be followed by its body exploding due to his magic. _I’m a menace to everything thing around me._ “Sir? Are trolls intelligent?” Harry asked hesitantly, dreading the answer but fearing he already knew what the Headmaster would say.

Albus looked towards the boy, pulling his own wandering thoughts back to the conversation. “In a manner of speaking.” Seeing the quizzical look on the young wizard’s face the Professor continued, as he always enjoyed educating the children entrusted into his care. “They have a capacity to learn as well as understand, Harry. Some believe them to be just dumb creatures. They are seen much like a dog by the Wizarding world. They can be taught to do some rudimentary things but that is the limit of their capacity.”

“But they are used by the Wizarding world, as well as the Goblins, as guards,” Harry pointed out. “So they are not just unintelligent animals? If they are employed then that must mean they are paid. Wouldn’t that make them closer to us than to dogs, Sir?”

“True,” Albus replied with a slight nod. “However, do not the Muggles use dogs as guards as well? I am certain they must have some degree of intelligence to be trained as such. They are paid as well with food and a place to live. That doesn’t mean that they are like us though, Harry.”

“B…but…I killed it,” Harry stated in a soft voice as if he was fearful of even saying the words. A part of his mind wanted to disbelieve that he had done such a thing. The other part of his mind kept repeating the fact over and over again that he had brutally killed an intelligent creature. _I killed another living being_ , he thought as his emotions at this revelation swirled nearly out of control.

Albus sighed softly and leaning forward placed a comforting hand upon the boys shoulder. He could now see just what was bothering the boy. “Had you not, Harry, I fear we would be short three very bright young witches. It is never easy to take a life, even when it is to save many others,” Albus told Harry, thinking of his friend Gellert from his youth whom he had been forced to kill. A deed that had, in the end, ultimately cost him the life of his sister Ariana, as well as the love of his brother Aberforth. “It is no simple matter to do what is right and for the greater good, Harry.”

“I’ve never killed anyone before,” Harry said, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach as well as lightheaded. Only the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything for several days prevented him from emptying his stomach at that moment. The young wizard felt dirty, foul, as if he was still covered in the blood of the troll he had murdered.

“I hope you never have to again, Harry,” Albus told him with conviction. _No child should ever have to go through what he has! No adult either for that matter,_ the Headmaster mused. _Those of us in positions of authority and tasked with guiding others are the only ones that should have to bare such a burden. I truly am sorry, Harry. I greatly fear this is only the first time you’ll have to shoulder such guilt before everything is set to right. I pray I am wrong._

_It could have just as easily have been Daphne or Tracey or_ , the young wizard swallowed heavily, _or Hermione_. A great weight seemed to settle into his chest and Harry found it difficult to breath. _I could have killed all of them_ , he suddenly realized. _I am a freak! Uncle Vernon was right after all! They’re all in danger if they’re around me!_ “Sir, they’re really are alright?” Harry asked, prepared to ask the Headmaster to ensure that no one came to visit him again.

The Headmaster opened his lips to reply but stopped as there was suddenly a straggled cry of “Harry!” from near the foot of the bed. The aged wizard blinked rapidly and had to wonder if the witch that had suddenly appeared atop the injured young wizard hadn’t apparated from the entry way of the curtained off area directly to the wizard. _I think perhaps this will be the best medicine of all_ , Albus thought as he eyed the two first year students.

“Hermione!” Harry squawked through the mass of bushy brown hair that covered his face. The witch’s one good arm was wedged beneath the boy’s shoulder as she clung tightly to him. Her face was buried in the crook of his neck, the warmth of her breath brushing the side of his throat as she repeated his name over and over again while crying. The-Boy-Who-Lived slipped his arms around his friend and held onto her as fiercely a he could, being mindful of Hermione’s injured arm that was in a sling and trapped between their bodies.

“Oh Harry! We thought you were…were….,” the young witch couldn’t bring herself to say that they thought he might be dead when they had found him on the stairs. When they had first come to the hospital wing of the school Madam Pomfrey had placed Harry in a bed and raised the privacy screens around it preventing others from seeing what was happening. Hours had gone by and there was no word as the three witches sat and waited anxiously for news of their friend. During that time the three witches had answered all the Headmaster’s questions concerning the events with the troll.  The aged wizard seemed most curious about the bright light and the troll’s body exploding.

While the three of them waited, nurses came and went, some fetching potions while other retrieved sterile bandages. The trio had collapsed into a heap, clinging to each other as they cried, when a large basin of bloody towels and cloths had been taken away followed by the bloodied and tattered remains of Harry’s clothes. Each had realized that for their friend to have lost that much blood, especially after all that he had already lost on the stairway, the prognosis could not be good. Madam Pomfrey finally had to issue all of them calming draughts and dreamless slumber potions or they would have never rested.

_I was a fool to think I could ever have friends_ , Harry realized as he clung to the girl in his arms, wanting to enjoy what would probably be the last hug he would receive. _I have to tell them what I did,_ he told himself after several long minutes. _They’ll probably hate me for it. I killed someone after all. I can’t readily think they’ll want to have any part of me after this._ A quick peek through the witch’s hair showed him that the Headmaster had silently left to allow the two of them some privacy.

“Hermione,” Harry said softly before pausing to remove the witch’s hair from his mouth before trying again. “Hermione,” he said once again only to receive a noncommittal sniffle before the witch nuzzled in a bit deeper. “I…I have to tell you something. I know you’ll probably hate me for it and all,” he told her softly only to feel Hermione’s head shake rapidly in disagreement.

“You saved us!” Hermione said in a tearful voice. “I was so scared! You saved us all, Harry!”

Harry’s head gave a short shake in an attempt to deny her words. “I…I killed someone,” the boy choked out emotionally only to feel the young girl’s grip on him tighten even more. “You must think me a horrible and vile person,” Harry added, his voice cracking under the emotional strain of his actions. “I’m a freak just like uncle Vernon said!” Harry could feel his own tears rolling down his cheek but at this point he really didn’t care all that much. The shame and wretchedness he felt inside for having ended another’s life was nearly all consuming for the young boy.

“I don’t care!” Hermione declared as she felt Harry’s body shudder beneath her. “You’re my best friend…my very first friend! Nothing will ever change that,” the emotional witch told him as she sat up and looked him directly in the eye. “We’ll always be friends, Harry, no matter what!”

“B…but…,” stammered the crying boy, “I killed that troll!”

“No,” came the sound of Daphne’s voice from the foot of the bed. “You saved us, Harry.” the blonde witch corrected him. “That creature wanted to kill us.”

“If not for you none of us would be here, Harry,” Tracey added from beside her friend. “What you did was a truly marvelous and selfless act.”

“T…then…why do I feel so terrible?” Harry sob despairingly through quivering lips as he rolled to his side and tried to curl into a ball. In just a blink of an eye the young crying wizard was surrounded by three concerned witches. Daphne cradled his head in her lap while Hermione hugged him supportively from behind and Tracey did the same from the boy’s front. Each witch tried to sooth their crying friend but really didn’t know what to do. All they could do was be there for him as Harry’s grief got the better of him.

Madam Pomfrey looked in on her charge only to find that he was not alone. The four first year students were huddled upon one bed and fast asleep. _I’m surprised they lasted this long_ , the mediwitch thought to herself. _They’ve been coming here every waking hour that they could since Mr. Potter was brought in. I’m sure they’ve worried themselves to exhaustion._ The astute mediwitch didn’t miss the tear tracks on all their faces either. Just this once she decided to look the other way at what her sensibilities would certainly have claimed was inappropriate behavior for boys and girls.

**-oOo-**

The day had dawned bright and sunny with the makings of a rare beautiful November day. It had taken some convincing but Madam Pomfrey had released Harry from the hospital wing just the previous evening. The young wizard had spent the entire week under the Mediwitch’s care, recovering from his encounter with the troll as well as doing his treatments. During his time there the Outsiders had visited with him every chance they could. The five of them shared their meals in the hospital wing as well as did their homework there. The girls made certain to take extra notes for Harry as he could not attend classes.

Harry grinned as he recalled Madam Pomfrey more than once telling them to contain themselves as they grew overly noisy. _It didn’t seem to matter that I was the only one currently in residence_ , Harry thought to himself. The young wizard half suspected it was the very fact that they were all so loud and boisterous that had led the Mediwitch to releasing him finally. _I’m certain the hospital ward will be much quieter now_ , he mused with a soft chuckle. It was no secret that the Mediwitch preferred her domain to be peaceful.

During his stay, Harry’s body wasn’t the only thing that had been on the mend. When he awoke, sandwiched between his friends, he realized something that he had been afraid to admit even to himself. Playing with a stray strand of Daphne’s hair that had found its way onto his chest, as he lay there he could hear the soft gentle breathing of the three witches that had come to mean so much to him. _How could I have ever thought to give them up?_ Harry realized that now that he had friends and knew what it meant to be a friend, he could never go back to being without them. Still, he felt it was for their own safety that he suggest they leave him be for the time being.

_I need to talk to them though. I have to explain to them that they could be hurt if they are around me. They could very well share the same fate as that troll._ The young wizard rolled the golden strands of hair between his finger and thumb, absently marveling at how soft it felt. Harry still felt terrible about what had happened to the troll. He realized there was little he could do about it now but was determine to see that he friends didn’t suffer the same fate. _I won’t let that happen ever again_ , he vowed, thinking of the troll and what his magic had done to it. _I would rather be without magic at all than see another hurt due to my magic._

Once all three witches had awaken, each blushing as they realized that they had all slept together, Harry had told them of his fears. He explained how he didn’t seem to have control of his magic and that there was a very good chance that one of them, if not all, could be injured. He had expressed that it might be better if they were more cautious around him. When he suggested that they stay away from him till he could gain the control to ensure they weren’t injured he was met with three very angry and determined glares.

The subsequent tongue lashing the young wizard had received from all three witches still echoed in his head. While he was most certainly concerned for their well-being it had made him secretly happy that they had refused to be parted from him. Tracey had even counselled that they should even spend more time together, which the other two girls readily agreed with, despite his best objections. The young witch’s general hypothesis was that if they were with him then Harry would try all the harder to control his accidental magic for fear of hurting one them. While it was a sound theory it would also place them in greater danger he realized.

It still amazed Harry that he not only had a friend but that he had three of them as wonderful as Daphne, Tracey and Hermione. While Blaise, once informed of the plan, was less inclined to hang out with Harry as much as the others, he did agree to help as best he could. They had agreed to hold up in the library, which Harry suspected was the reason for Blaise’s less than enthusiastic response. Being in the library meant that they would most likely be studying and the young dark skinned boy, much like most boys his age, was not overly keen to spending all his time with his nose buried in a book.

Harry banked his boom out over Black Lake and did several lazy turns as he continued to think about the events of the past few days. All the time spent in bed, as well as the fight on the stairway, had left him with sore and stiff muscles. The one thing that Blaise had been over joyed about was the fact that Madam Pomfrey had let Harry out in time for the young Seeker to play in Slytherin’s Quidditch match against Gryffindor. The game was latter in the afternoon which was why Harry was currently flying about in an attempt to loosen up his muscles.

As Harry turned his Nimbus 2000 back towards the shore he spied a large beefy hand waving at him and an enormous bearded smile grinning up at him. The young Slytherin landed and hopped off his broom in one smooth motion. “Hi Hagrid!” Harry exclaimed with a grin to the waiting half-giant.

“You alright there, Harry?” Hagrid asked in a concerned tone, eyeing the boy over for any signs of remaining injuries.

“Well enough,” Harry replied with a slight shrug, deciding that there wasn’t a need to mention that he was sore and stiff in places still. The two fell into step and began to walk along the edge of the lake. Well, Hagrid walked and Harry hurried to keep up as best he could.

“Getting ready for your match ta’day, are ya?” the Grounds Keeper enquired, eyeing the broom in the boy’s hand and relieved the lad seemed none the worse for wear. It still amazed him that the small boy had beaten a full grown mountain troll. _If I hadn’t heard it myself from Albus Dumbledore I don’t think I would ’ave believed it!_ Hagrid had been the one responsible for the disposal of the trolls body once it had been removed from the castle.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Harry answered. The young Seeker’s stomach felt like it had a hornets nest in it at the moment. He had tried to eat breakfast that morning, to keep with Madam Pomfrey’s instructions, but had found that his appetite had apparently abandoned him for the time being. The thought of food sent his stomach into a curlicue.

“Rough game Quidditch is,” Hagrid advised Harry in a knowing tone. “Best be careful out there, Harry.”

“Have you ever played before, Hagrid?” Harry asked, suddenly wondering if his friend had or not.

Hagrid’s lips split into a grin as he lean in towards the boy a bit. “I don’t reckon they make a broom my size, Harry.”

Harry chuckled a bit, “I suspect not. After the troll I suspect today’s match will be rather tame,” he offered in a poor attempt at a bit of humor.

“Seriously misunderstood creatures, trolls are,” Hagrid stated earnestly, not realizing the young wizard had meant it as a joke. “Not hardly dangerous at`all if you know what yer doin.”

Harry just grinned. _Perhaps if you’re a half-giant a great many things don’t seem all that dangerous._ “And I suppose that three headed dog in the castle is misunderstood as well?” the boy asked in jest.

“Fluffy? How’d ya know about him?” Hagrid asked with a sharp glance at the young wizard beside him.

“Heard some of the other students talking about it,” Harry confessed with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “They said it about took their arm off. Wait, that thing has a name?” Harry asked in disbelief suddenly realizing what Hagrid had said.

“Of course he has a name! I raised him from a pup that was no bigger than me hand,” the half-giant said as he held out an open hand to demonstrate just how big that was. “That’s the trouble with people. They don’t take the time to get to know the animals. They just see large fangs, sharp claws or hard scales and assume the worst! They don’t give `em a fair chance.”

“So then F…Fluffy isn’t dangerous?” Harry asked in an amazed tone.

“Well of course he is!” Hagrid exclaimed as if that should have been obvious. “What good would he be if he weren’t? As I was tellin’ this fella down at the Three Broomsticks just the other night, the trick is knowing how to handle ‘em,” Hagrid continued excitedly before Harry could say anything. It was rare for the half-giant to find someone to talk his trade with and he couldn’t help but explain it to his friend. “Take Fluffy. Just play him a bit of music and he falls right to sleep, he does.” The half-giant’s eyes suddenly grew larger as he realized what he had said. “I ought not to have said that!”

“Said what?” Harry asked as he suddenly thought it a great idea to inspect the twigs on his broom. “I didn’t hear anything,” Harry added in a slightly distracted tone, hoping the half-giant caught on to the act.

Hagrid paused for a long moment before giving a sharp nod. “Thanks, Harry. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to Professor Dumbledore and all,” the Grounds Keeper offered, trusting the boy to keep what he had let slip a secret.

The first year Slytherin decided a change of topic was in order. “Are you going to the game today, Hagrid?” Harry asked, looking up from his broom expectantly.

“Yer first match! I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Harry,” Hagrid assured him. “I’ll probably be on the Gryffindor side though,” the man added, his voice dropping slightly, fearing he might have hurt the boy’s feelings. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be cheering you on though, Harry. Just not the rest of yer team, is all.”

“That’s alright,” Harry replied with a cheerful smile. The young wizard recalled hearing someplace that when Hagrid had attended school at Hogwarts he had been a Gryffindor. “We’ll try not to beat your Gryffs too badly,” he added with a cheeky grin.

Hagrid bellowed a loud laugh as the boy mounted his broom and rose up into the sky. “We’ll see `bout that,” the half-giant called after the Slytherin Seeker as Harry shot off in the direction of the Quidditch pitch with a quick wave bye. “I wonder if there’s still enough time to place a bet on Harry catching the Snitch or not?” the half-giant mumbled to himself as he turned and head for the castle in the distance.

**-oOo-**

The youngest Seeker in over a hundred years sat on a bench within the Slytherin locker room and listened to Marcus Flint give a last minute peep talk. Harry was dressed in his complete Quidditch outfit, as were the rest of his teammates. They had warmed up first and then cleared the pitch so that the Gryffindor team could use it. The steady hum of the gathering crowd could just barely be heard through the closed doors of the locker room.

“Feeling a bit nervous, Potter?” asked Terence Higgs after leaning over towards Harry. Of all the members of the Slytherin team, Higgs had been the closest to being nice to Harry.

“A bit,” Harry replied nervously with what he hoped was a dismissive shrug.

Higgs gave a nod of understanding. “I was too my first time out,” he told the younger boy.

“What happened?” Harry asked, eyeing the Beater wearily.

“Nothing much,” Higgs responded with. “We kicked the Claws collective arses!” he added with a wide grin recalling the 320 to 80 win.

Harry visibly relaxed upon hearing this. “Well, let’s hope the same thing happens today then.”

“My second game out though I ran into a support beam for one of the stands,” Higgs said. “Broke my shoulder and was stuck in the hospital wing for a week. I completely missed the third game as I was having trouble with the shoulder and all. I’m sure you’ll do better than that, Potter,” the older boy declared as he gave Harry a comradery slap on the back.

“Something to add back there Higgs, Potter?” Flint barked loudly enough to get their attention.

“Just giving our newest Seeker some last minute advice, Marcus,” Terence replied smoothly. “Former Seeker to Seeker.”

“Maybe if you were any good at Seeker you’d still be one,” Peregrine Derrick offered, causing the others on the team to snicker.

“Ya and maybe you’d still be a Beater, Perry,” Higgs quipped back, causing the Chaser to glare at him angrily and the others to openly guffaw as the former Beater’s face turned red. Terence knew the other boy hated the name Perry which was why he had used it.

“That’s enough from the lot of ya!” warned Flint. “Get your stuff ready as we’ll be heading out in just a minute.” The other players all cleared out to check their equipment but as Harry rose to do the same Flint stopped him with one hand. “You remember what we practiced, Potter?” The young Seeker gave a quick nod. “Good. Do it just like I showed you and we’ll win this one easily.”

In just a few minutes the Slytherin team was called out by Madam Hooch and took to the air. Harry climbed aboard his Nimbus 2000 and kicked off when the doors opened. The roar of the crowd hit the young wizard almost like a physical wave of sound. As he climbed into the air all he could see was a massive sea of colors and faces beneath him in the stands. It seemed like one side of the pitch was decorated in silver and green for Slytherin and the opposite side was the expected red and gold for Gryffindor.

The spectators cheered and stomped their feet as each of the team’s members were introduced. The noise rose considerably for each of the Gryffindor players, or so it seemed to Harry. While the Slytherins supported their team they were less boisterous about it. Harry was none to surprised to hear the least amount of cheering when his name was called out. The thrill of being astride his Nimbus as well as the nervousness of it being his first Quidditch match were enough to distract him from the less than warm reception from his housemates.

Harry’s eyes scanned the Slytherin side of the field in the hopes of spotting his fellow Outsiders but he had no luck at locating them. A turn about the field and he spied the Gryffindor side but was equally unable to locate Hermione. _Perhaps they didn’t come?_ he wondered as he banked his broom around behind the Gryffindor goal posts. He felt a slight pain upon realizing that his friends weren’t there. As he flew along he spotted Hagrid and waved to the half-giant. _At least someone will be cheering for me_.

Harry passed over the Gryffindor stands, trying to ignore the heckling and booing that was directed at him. Reaching the end of the pitch he curved his path behind the Slytherin goals and suddenly spotted a flash of blonde hair in the stands. Looking closer he couldn’t help but grin upon seeing all his friends seated together. _I guess they couldn’t sit on either side_ , he reasoned. The ends of the pitch were where those from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who had come out for the game were seated it seemed. _I can just imagine what would happen if Hermione tried to sit with the Slytherins or the others sat with the Gryffindors_.

Harry quickly turned his broom about and flew back towards his four friends. With a silly grin on his face he reached down and smacked his palm against Blaise’s as the dark-skinned wizard had it thrust up into the air. The young Seeker waved to the three witches, their smiles instantly making him feel loads better, before zipping off to his place above the pitch as the game was about to begin.

In short order Madam Hooch called the game to order. “Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you!” the witch declared as she eyed the Slytherin side of the field. The snitch was released and though Harry tried to keep an eye on it he quickly lost it among the multitude of colors that were the spectators. Next the Bludgers were released followed quickly by the Quaffle.

“And Pucey has the Quaffle,” declared the young voice of the commentator that was announcing the match. “What a terrible start,” Lee Jordan’s voice rang out as the Slytherin team moved the Quaffle down the pitch to the cheers of their housemates. “Pucey to Flint. Flint dodges an excellently placed bludger by one of the Weasley’s before passing it to Derrick - the Quaffle is intercepted by Angelina Johnson. An excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive too! Sorry Professor,” Jordan’s voice said as he was admonished for his one sided commentary.

“Johnson to Spinnet…Spinnet back to Johnson,” Lee stated as he closely watched the game. “A good find there with Spinnet by Wood,” the boy stated. “Last year she was only a reserve. Johnson narrowly evades a bludger. A reverse pass to Bell who presses on the goal...shoots and SCORES! 10 points for Gryffindor!” Lee Jordan yelled, leaving little doubt just who his favorite team was. “We’re off to a great start here in what is sure to be a blowout game…sorry Professor,” Lee whined as Professor McGonagall once again chastised him for his favoritism.

Harry tore his eyes away from the match below him and slowly began to circle the pitch in the hopes of finding the Snitch. A quick glance across the field showed him that the Gryffindor Seeker was doing the same. _What was his name?_ Harry pondered. _McLarger? McMillen?_ Just at that moment the Gryffindor Seeker spun to the left and shot off quickly.

“It looks like McLaggen has seen the snitch,” Jordan’s voice stated excitedly. “Will he be able to get it before Potter gets there?”

_That’s it, McLaggen! He’s a second year I think I heard Flint say._ Harry, suspecting that McLaggen might have spotted the snitch, gave chase. As he trailed behind the older boy Harry anxiously looked about for the snitch. _Where is it? Where is it?_ he mumbled aloud as his eyes darted about trying to see past the other boy who seemed intent upon blocking his field of view.

Try as he might the Slytherin wizard couldn’t see any flicker of gold at all. Slowly he gained on the other player only to have McLaggen dove tailed straight down towards the ground. Harry had no choice but to follow in his wake as he coaxed his broom to greater speed. At the last possible moment the Gryffindor Seeker pulled out of the dive and it was only thanks to the exceptional maneuverability of the Nimbus that Harry didn’t plow into the ground himself.

In the next several minutes Gryffindor managed to score three additional times making the score 40 – 0 in their favor. Harry gripped his broom in frustration as he circled the pitch. Twice more McLaggen tried to pull Harry into following after him but the first year wizard didn’t take the bait. _I just need to keep my eyes out for the snitch_ , he reminded himself repeatedly.

“Pucey, Flint and Derrick have assumed a Hawkshead formation and are speeding down the field,” Lee Jordan declared as the trio weaved their way past the defenders and closed in on the Gryffindor goal. “They’re past the chasers…past the opposing Beaters. Pucey lines up for the shot and there’s the throw – OH! Wood swats it away for the save! Derrick recovers, shoots and scores,” Lee stated a great deal less enthusiasm than he had been just a moment before when Wood has blocked Pucey’s shot. The Gryffindor cheers for their Keeper, Oliver Wood, as he blocked the shot quickly turned to groans as the Slytherins scored.

Over the course of the next hour both teams managed to score, though Gryffindor were responsible for the lion’s share of them. “That’s another score by the attractive Miss Johnson! Sorry Professor. The score now is Gryffindor 230 points and Slytherin 80 points. Hopefully McLaggen will catch the snitch soon as this is just too painful to watch! Sorry Professor,” Lee quickly added before McGonagall could chastise him.

Harry glanced over towards McLaggen and saw him once again race off. Something about the way the other Seeker sat his broom led him to believe it wasn’t a feint this time. Harry turned his Nimbus and sped off as fast as it would go. As he tailed the other player he caught a flash of gold as the snitch zigzagged about in an effort to keep from being caught. As the Slytherin Seeker drew closer he realized that the other boy would catch it before he could stop him or get to it himself.

_Time to do what Flint showed me_ , Harry thought. Leaning forward over the handle of his Nimbus Harry grabbed a handful of the twigs belonging to McLaggen’s broom and gave a solid yank backwards. The Gryffindor Seeker barely managed to retain ahold of his broom as it was nearly pulled out from under him.

The sharp shrill sound of Madam Hooch’s silver whistle brought all play to a halt. “Blagging by Potter!” Madam Hooch called out. “Penalty shot, Gryffindor!” she continued with among the boos and insults being hurled from the Gryffindor fans.

Harry sighed heavily at the sound of the whistle. _I must have done it wrong,_ he thought _. I’m certain though that is how Flint instructed me to do it. Maybe I need to practice it a bit more._ A quick look around and it was clear to see that the snitch was nowhere to be seen.

“You better watch yourself, Potter,” Cormac growled in an angry tone as he flew past nearly close enough to knock Harry from his broom. If the young Seeker hadn’t moved at the last moment he may very well have done that. “Dirty cheating Snake,” the angry boy tossed over his shoulder as his whizzed past.

Katie Bell took the penalty shot and had no problems getting the Quaffle past Miles Bletchy for the score and 10 points for Gryffindor. The teams were reset and the Quaffle was tossed up into the air once again. Gryffindor initially gained control, however Flint and Derrick used a Parkin’s Pincer on the Bell girl and flew her into one of the supports for the stands after taking the Quaffle from her. The Slytherin chasers drove down field and scored making it 240 – 90 in Gryffindor’s favor.

Harry shook his fist in the air in celebration as his team scored. _I have to find the snitch!_ As the young wizard banked the Nimbus above the Gryffindor hoops it began to jerk about and rapidly change directions, first dropping drastically and then lurching upwards. The crowd, focused on the play on the field, was completely unaware of what was happening with The-Boy-Who-Lived’s broom. _Did I break it?_ Harry wondered as he fought to stay seated.

“What’s wrong with Harry’s broom?” Tracey asked as she watch her housemate jerk about in the air from where the Outsiders were seated. Even being at the opposite end of the field it was clear to see that something was amiss.

“That’s not normal,” Blaise offered after holding up a hand to shield his vision so he could get a better view. “It looks like something is up with Harry’s broom,” he added in a concerned tone.

As the Outsiders anxiously watched their friend, the wizard pitched forward and slid off the side of his broom to dangle there in the air only holding on by his hands. At the opposite end of the field Gryffindor managed to score once again. The loud cheering of the fans easily drowned out the frightened cries of the dangling wizard as well as those of his concerned friends.

The Slytherin chasers took possession of the quaffle and were passing it back and forth as they looked for an opening in the Gryffindor defenses that would allow them to make a break for the rings at the other end of the field. Several times the Gryffindor players nearly stole the quaffle but each time one of the Slytherin chasers managed to get to it first. The Higgs and Bole used the Bludgers to break up the Gryffindor’s defenses as best they could but it was touch and go.

_What do I do now?_ Harry asked himself as he hung in the air. Several times he attempted to swing one leg over the broom only to have the broom suddenly move in a manner that prevented him from doing so. _I must have broken it pretty bad. Professor Snape will certainly be angry with me._ Once more he attempted to swing his leg up only to feel the broom tilt away from him. One hand slipped off the broom handle and Harry could feel his other slipping as well and then he was falling as he lost his precarious hold upon the Nimbus.

_This is what it is like to be a bird_ , his mind absently thought for a moment as he plummeted to his certain death only to be abruptly brought up short. “Gotcha, Potter!” declared a strained voice. Harry couldn’t believe it and looked up into the reddening face of Olive Wood. “Bloody hell if you aren’t heavy for someone so small,” the Gryffindor Keeper exclaimed with a tight grin as he held onto Harry’s robes with one hand and his broom with the other as he slowly lowered them both towards the ground.

Down the field the Slytherin chasers saw that the Gryffindor hoops were unguarded and made a break for them. The chasers in red and gold tried to hold them off but only managed to slow them down a bit. With the Bludgers being down at the Slytherin end of the field there was nothing the Weasley twins could do to slow the advancing green and silver Chasers.

Harry hung his head in shame. _Not only did I manage to fall off the wonderful broom Professor Snape bought for me, I also managed to break it apparently_ , the wizard lamented as the group down-field quickly drew closer. _To make matters worse I have to be saved by the other team! I wish I could just catch the snitch so this would all be over with!_ Something thumped into his chest at that moment. Reflexively Harry’s hand reached up and caught whatever it was as it dropped.

At mid-field the Slytherin Chasers had finally shook off their pursuers and made a mad dash directly for the unguarded Gryffindor goal posts. “Here comes the Slytherins,” Lee’s voice wailed out over the stadium, believing it would be an easy score. “Flint passes it to Pucey who hands it off to Derrick who draws back to throw.” The shrill sound of a whistle was heard just a split second before the quaffle left Derrick’s hand and flew through the middle hoop. “Potter has caught the snitch!” Jordan yelled. “The goal is no good! Gryffindor wins 250 to 240! Gryffindor wins!” The Gryffindor side of the pitch erupted into cheers at the announcement.

“Thanks,” Harry said as his feet touched the ground and Oliver Wood landed next to him. “I doubt I would have landed very well if not for you,” Harry added as he held out his hand to the older boy to say thanks as he had with Neville.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit as he wasn’t accustom to such manners from a member of the Slytherin team. “I’m sure you would have done the same for me, Potter,” Wood finally replied as he shook the proffered hand. “Besides,” Wood added with a grin, “if not for you catching the snitch when you did we might have lost.” Before Harry could reply the Gryffindor Keeper was swarmed by his teammates and quickly dragged away as they celebrated their win.

Harry turned to head for the Slytherin locker room only to be stopped by a call from behind him. “Mr. Potter,” the sharp voice of Madam Hooch called. “A moment if you would.”

Turning about the young wizard waited for the Quidditch Official to approach. Harry saw that along with her own broom she was also carrying his Nimbus. From what he could tell, other than a few scuff marks and bent twigs it thankfully didn’t look any the worse for wear. Behind the Flying Instructor Harry saw his Head of House, the Headmaster as well as Professor McGonagall and Hagrid rapidly approaching.

“Care to tell me what exactly happened up there, Mr. Potter?” Madam Hooch enquired just as the others arrived.

“No, Ma`am” Harry replied as his eyes dropped to the ground so that he wouldn’t have to look at the silver haired witch’s piercing gaze.

“You don’t care to tell me?” Madam Hooch shot back angrily as one brow threatened to climb into her hairline at the boy’s response. _Insolate little whelp! I should have known after that first flying lesson that he’d be the one to cause problems!_

“I don’t believe that is what Harry meant, Rolanda,” Albus offered, stepping forward and standing beside the young Seeker. The Headmaster’s eyes regarded the boy for a moment, noting how Harry seemed to have shrunken into himself. It didn’t take a Legilimens to realize the boy was half frighten to death. “Harry, perhaps if you told us why you fell off your broom,” Albus offered in a gentle voice as he placed a reassuring hand upon the boy’s shoulder.

Harry, never being one to do well in crowds, couldn’t bring himself to say anything. _It is safer to say nothing than to open your mouth and give them further reason to punish you_ , he told himself. A life time of living with the Dursleys had hammered this mantra into the very fiber of his being. The young Slytherin wizard stood there with downcast eyes and remained silent before the combined stares of the gathered adults. Suddenly he heard his name called by three very distinct voices and he looked up just in time to be swarmed by Tracey, Daphne and Hermione.

“I thought Mr. Potter might benefit from the support of his friends,” Aurora offered as those gathered turned and looked at her questioningly. The Astronomy Professor had seen the other Outsiders waiting anxiously at the edge of the pitch and had escorted them over. _I’m sure an inquisition is the last thing Harry needs to face all alone_ , the young Professor thought to herself as she watched the three witches hug their friend. “I’m sorry, was this a private conversation?” Aurora asked with the most innocent of smiles plastered on her face.

“I thought you were done for,” Daphne exclaimed a bit emotionally as she hugged Harry from one side. Hermione was past the point of words and clung to the Slytherin boy on his other side as if she needed to confirm for herself that he was actually uninjured and still among the living.

“When I saw your broom start to move around so erratically we feared the worst, Harry” Tracey told the overwhelmed boy as she hugged him from behind with her arms around his neck and her cheek resting against his neck.

“I’m alright,” Harry tried to assure all three witches. “Nothing but a bit a wounded pride at being caught by the other teams Keeper, is all,” he assured them. The soft clearing of the Headmaster’s throat drew the Outsiders attention. “Sorry Sir,” Harry quickly apologized as the three witches, looking slightly embarrassed, moved to take up supportive positions behind their friend.

Albus smiled, a soft twinkle to his blue eyes. “A most precious thing, friendship. Now, perhaps you can tell us about how your broom acted.”

“I’m not certain, Sir,” Harry replied. “It wouldn’t go where I wanted it to or do what it was supposed to. It just sort of jerked around like it was possessed or something,” the young wizard offered, nervously running one hand through his black locks. “Sorry Professor Snape,” Harry added with a darting glance towards the Potion Master before looking at the ground once more. “I think I may have broken it.”

The Headmaster gave a small nod before Severus could respond and turned to address Madam Hooch. “Am I correct to assume that you’ve looked the broom over, Rolanda?” he enquired over the rim of his half-moon glasses.

“I have Headmaster,” Madam Hooch replied quickly. “There does seem to be a lingering trace of something though I can not tell what it is,” she confessed. “I would like to have Professor Quirrell take a look at it in the hopes that he’ll have better luck than myself.”

“Yes, Quirinus would be best, I agree,” Albus spoke in a thoughtful tone. “Harry, would you mind if Madam Hooch here retains your broom till she’s had a chance to properly investigate this matter?”

“No, Sir,” Harry replied meekly, only to feel Daphne and Hermione slip their hands into his and give them a reassuring squeeze.

“Very good,” Albus replied, giving a slight nods towards Madam Hooch. “I think it best you run along now, Harry. After a game like today’s I’m certain you’d like to clean up a bit before we dine.” The first year wizard gave a quick nod and quickly headed for the locker room with his friends in tow. Albus waited till the students were well out of hearing distance before turning to regard his staff. “Thoughts?”

“From what the Davis girl stated as well as Potter’s own description of what transpired, I think it is safe to assume that the broom was jinxed in some manner,” Snape offered speaking first. “The question is who.”

“With the way Potter pulled that Blagging on McLaggen, you might as well suspect half of Gryffindor,” Minerva McGonagall pointed out with an exasperated bark.

“Perhaps then that is where we should start looking,” Severus shot back heatedly only to receive a glare from the Transfiguration Professor at the implication that one of her lions would do such a thing. “Potter’s been targeted by them once already,” the Potions Master added, a clear reminder of the Weasley prank. “Your kittens have a habit of going after my Snakes, Minerva!”

“Enough, Severus,” Albus cautioned. “Let us first be certain that Harry’s broom was in deed tampered with in some manner before we look to place blame. Rolanda, please get with Quirinus as soon as your schedules allow,” the Headmaster instructed. “Please inform me directly of anything you discover.” Madam Hooch gave a curt nod to indicate she understood. “Perhaps we should all follow Harry’s example and get tidied up before the evening meal. I understand the Shepard Pie is to be most excellent this evening.”

**-oOo-**

“That was bloody brilliant! Catching the Snitch and all,” Blaise raved as the group of friends approached the door leading to the Slytherin locker room. “It would have been even better if you could have waited another minute or so. At least then it would have been a tie that way.”

“Zabini!” Daphne and Hermione snapped at exactly the same moment.

“Harry could have been seriously injured out there,” Daphne continued with, scolding the young wizard.

“It’s all part of the game!” Blaise replied with defensively. “Besides, Harry’s too great of a flyer to get seriously hurt,” he added with a look towards the Seeker for support.

Harry gave a slight shrug, not really knowing. “I’m not sure what I would have done it Wood hadn’t been there to catch me,” he told his friends. “He certainly saved me from another visit to the hospital wing. I’m sure Madam Pomfrey must be getting a bit tired of my company by now,” the emerald-eyed wizard offered with a grin.

“It’s not something to joke about, Harry,” Hermione chimed in with. The young witch’s voice was thick with concern for her friend. “You could have been hurt! Quidditch is so violent,” she added in a distasteful tone.

“I know!” Blaise exclaimed gleefully. “Isn’t it wicked!”

Harry couldn’t help it and just had to laugh at the gleeful look upon Blaise’s face. _He certainly loves his Quidditch_ , he thought to himself. “Meet you all at dinner?” Harry asked turning to regard them all just short of the locker room door.

“You best not keep us waiting, Potter,” Tracey warned with a faux angry glare, “or I might just have to eat all the Treacle tart first and leave you none!”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Blaise said as he slapped the boy on the back. “I’ll be sure to save you some!”

“Thanks,” Harry replied with an appreciative smile. The young wizard stood there and watched the others walk off and enter the tunnel that led out of the stadium before he pushed open the locker room door and entered. It was only due to his reflexes that he managed to jump to the side and narrowly miss the Beater bat that had been hurled at his head. Harry turned to regard the room only to see Peregrine Derrick closing on him.

“You little shite!” Derrick spat as he balled up his fist and punched the Seeker in the face. “Bet you had it planned out all along didn’t you?” the irate fifth year exclaimed as his other fist connected with Harry’s stomach, driving the air from the boy’s lungs. “You helped that little mudblood of yours arrange it so those bloody lions would win! You filthy traitor!”

Harry collapsed to the floor and curled into a ball just as he always did when Dudley and the others beat on him. The young boy gasped and tried to regain his breath even as he struggled to protect his vital areas from attack. Harry’s head was still ringing from the first punch as he wrapped on arm around it. All he could do as the first kick connected with his back was grunt in pain and tighten his hold upon his knees as he drew them up against his chest.

“That’s enough Derrick,” Terence Higgs yelled and he pushed the Slytherin chaser off of the prone boy. “He’s just a firstie! Any more and you’ll likely kill him!”

“Would serve him right, then,” Derrick spat. “I lost all the galleons I had wagered on us today! Who’s going to repay me for that?”

“That’s why it’s called gambling, you git,” Flint quipped from off to the side where he was finishing getting dressed. “Give it a rest,” Flint instructed. “We don’t have a spare Seeker if you damage this one, Perry.”

“It’s Peregrine!” Derrick growled as he turned to face the Slytherin team captain. “The next one of you sods that calls me Perry will wish to Merlin that you hadn’t!” Fuming, the boy grabbed his clothes and stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door hard enough to cause it to rattle in its frame.

Flint watch the Chaser leave. “Higgs, help Potter and get him cleaned up,” he told the other boy. “The last thing we want is Snape breathing down our necks because his hand selected Seeker got roughed up a bit.” A few minutes later Flint as well as all the other team members besides Higgs had left.

“You alright there, Potter?” Higgs asked as he seated himself on the bench in front of his own locker. “Judging by the manner you curled up, I take it this isn’t the first time you’ve been on the receiving end of someone’s temper?”

Harry slowly cracked open an eye and peered about before uncurling. The young wizard cautiously sat up and then slide backwards till his back encounter the wall, which he then leaned against. “I don’t understand,” he sniffled as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. He tried not to wince when he touched to spot on his face where the older boy’s fist had impacted. _I bet I’ll have a right nice black there in a bit._

“What’s to understand?” Higgs asked as he stripped off the remainder of his gear and tossed it into his locker. A house elf would collect the gear latter and make certain it was all clean and ready for use before the next match. “We lost and Perry was looking to blame you for it.”

“But I did everything that Flint told me to,” Harry maintained, a note of confusion in his voice.

“Well, you almost did,” Higgs offered as he stood up and began to dress in his usual school uniform. “The one thing you did wrong was getting caught,” the older boy explained. Seeing the confused look on Harry’s face he continued to explain. “A bit of cheating is part of the game, Potter. Elbows get thrown, people get blocked. Technically, what you did to McLaggen is against the rules.”

“But it’s what Flint told me to do,” Harry exclaimed in disbelief.

“Oh I do not doubt that at all. Flint will do anything to keep the House Cup with Slytherin,” Higgs replied as he slipped on his robes and started to button them up. “You see, the way Flint looks at it is that it is only cheating if you get caught at it. Which you did. Hence, they all think it is your fault.”

“W…what about you? Do you think it is my fault as well?” Harry asked.

Higgs crossed the short distance between them and squatted down so that he was nearly level with the smaller boy. The nearness of the fifth year caused Harry to draw back as far as the wall behind him would allow. “I have to agree with them, Potter. The first rule of being a Seeker is you don’t catch the snitch unless you’re team is going to win due to it. If you had waited another minute or two we could have at least tied. This is the first time we’ve lost to the Gryffs in the last 8 years.”

Higgs stood up once again and made certain that his clothes were in order. “A bit of advice, Potter,” the boy said as he walked over to the door and opened it, before glancing towards Harry. “I would steer clear of Derrick and the others for the next few weeks. Be a good chap and be sure to douse the lights when you leave,” Higgs added before he stepped out the door, closing it behind him.

After a few minutes Harry stood and crossed to his own locker. Quickly stripping down he grabbed his towel and headed for the showers. The young wizard wasn’t sure what to make of everything that had happened that day. His cheek smarted as the hot water hit his skin and he had to be extra careful around his eye when washing his face. It wasn’t long before he was done, dried and dressed. Slipping out the locker room, after extinguishing the lights, he turned and made his way to the tunnel leading out of the pitch. Night had nearly fallen and the evening meal should have already started he realized as he walked up the path towards the castle. He never saw the stunner that hit him from behind.

Harry’s eyes popped open and his field of vision was suddenly filled with a multitude of stars. _Where am I?_ he wondered. _I was leaving the pitch_ , he recalled, _and then nothing_. Suddenly the boy found himself falling only to abruptly stop as he struck the surface of the lake. Pure terror erupted in the boy’s confused brain as his body struggled to stay afloat. The heavy school robes, weighed down with absorbed water threatened to pull the boy under even as he struggled to remain on the surface.

“Help! I can’t swim!” Harry screamed, half gargled, as water entered his mouth. Harry struggled for what seemed like an eternity, swallowing water and choking on it as he fought to keep from going under. It had been a long day and a tiring Quidditch match. The small boy rapidly grew tired and all too soon his arms felt like they were made of lead. _I hope the others won’t be too mad that I couldn’t make it_ , was his last thought as he slipped beneath the surface of the lake and slow began to sink.


	17. The Wet Wizard

The great hall of Hogwarts was filled with the usual din which seemed to accompany every meal, this particular evening’s meal being no different than any other. Students joked, laughed and chatted away the time just as they had every previous evening since the start of term. Food appeared on the tables and was consumed by the students in the manner in which all growing children eat, rather quickly. The main courses had long since been served and even now were starting to be replaced with the more sought after sweets of dessert.

At the Hufflepuff table the general topic of discussion was related to who was doing what and how others might help, if so inclined. The Ravenclaws were mostly discussing the planned study groups for that evening so they could get in as much revision before bedtime as possible. The Gryffindor table was its typically loud and boisterous self, almost as if it felt it needed to outdo the other three tables in this regard. As one would expect, the majority of the conversation was focused on the Quidditch match from earlier that day. The Slytherins were mostly quiet except for the occasional barb that was verbally hurled at the nearby table of lions only to be mostly ignored. The few subdued conversations along the long length of the table were predictably about the day’s game and Harry Potter’s failure at being a Seeker. At the head table the Professors quietly conversed among themselves between bites of the exceptional fare prepared that evening.

“He should be here by now,” Hermione said to the other Outsiders with a worried expression upon her face. “I mean how long does it take to shower and change after all?” The young Gryffindor witch received equal looks of concern from Tracey and Daphne, though Blaise continued to blissfully eat his food without an apparent care in the world. “He’s a boy after all,” she added as if to indicate that should have shortened the required time for proper hygiene. The young witch’s brown eyes darted about the hall, landing upon the distant doors several times. _It’s not like he’s a girl for Merlin’s sake! It takes us longer to get ready. A bit unfair that, really,_ the young girl noted with a slightly creased brow at the injustice forced upon her gender.

“Maybe he stopped to have a bit of a chin wag with someone?” Tracey offered, though the questioning tone of her voice clearly indicated that even she didn’t think that was likely. _He better have a good reason for making us worry_ , the auburn haired witch thought, though her concern for her friend didn’t really allow her to be angry at him for the moment. _If he doesn’t get here soon he won’t be able to eat_ , she worried, glancing quickly towards the doors of the hall before her best friend’s voice drew her eyes back.

Daphne gave a small shake of her head at Tracey’s words. “Everyone he could possibly want to speak to is here,” the young girl stated with a quick glance around their group before turning towards the head table where Aurora Sinister was talking quietly to another professor. _I think that is Professor Vector, the Arithmancy instructor_ , she recalled to herself, having heard several of the older students speaking about the overly strict woman. _Where could he possibly be?_ she wondered as her head turned to regard the main entrance to the hall, hoping to see their missing friend walk through the doors.

Blaise swallowed before offering his thoughts on the matter. “You’re assuming Harry would want to speak to anyone right now,” the dark-skinned boy interjected into the three witch’s conversation regarding the whereabouts of the missing wizard. “Blimey, after getting caught pulling that Blagger on the Gryff Seeker, then catching the snitch and costing us the match, I wouldn’t be surprised if he went straight to bed or something. If not for that foul shot, and if he had let Derrick score before catching the snitch, we would have won the match. The poor bloke hasn’t had the best of luck this week,” Blaise concluded with, his head giving a sad little shake. _First he’s nearly killed by a troll and then he falls off his broom and costs us the match_. _Rotten luck, that’s what that is!_

“He does seem to manage to get himself into a spot of trouble on a regular basis,” Tracey dropped into the silence that followed the young wizard’s words. “I’m sure there’s a good reason for how everything played out,” Tracey said loudly in Harry’s defense, drawing a few stares and glares from further down the table. “It’s not Harry’s fault. He just doesn’t have the best of luck,” she added in a quieter tone of voice, agreeing with Blaise.

“A bit more than a _spot of trouble_ this time around, Davis,” Blaise responded with. “Our House is none to thrilled with him at the moment and I’m certain the Gryffs were none too pleased with that Blagger either. I still can’t believe Harry did that,” he added in a disbelieving tone.

“There have been all kinds of rumors this last week concerning Harry and what happened on the Grande Stairway,” Hermione offered, wanting to change the subject from the Quidditch match earlier that day. The Gryffindor witch couldn’t believe her friend had cheated either but she assumed there was a logical reason for it. “The professors aren’t saying anything one way of the other.” The young brunette had heard many different stories through the course of the week. Everything from Harry being attacked by the troll to him being the one to let the troll in only to have it turn on him when he lost control of it.

“That just makes it worse,” Daphne stepped in with. “The gossipers are running rampant and having a field day, I’m afraid. The fact that Harry spent the week in the hospital wing made it clear enough to the entire school that he was somehow involved in the matter. I’ve had several students approach me and ask me for details of what happened.” The young witch stared down at her plate and rearranged the food with her fork.

“Me too,” Tracey added. “…and not just from my own house, but the others as well. The entire school seems to be under the impression that we know something they do not. Granted, we do, but still! I just tell them that I know as much as they do and nothing else. They seem to be buying it for now. Still, it seems most believe that the troll was Harry’s doing.”

“Oi, I heard that Harry brought the troll into the school to attack the Gryffindor Quidditch team just so our team would win,” Blaise added with a grin at how absurd the story was to anyone with half a brain. “My personal favorite is that the big smelly thing just came to see The-Boy-Who-Lived and ask for an autograph!” Blaise added with a short barking laugh and a shake of his head in disbelief. “Next thing you know they’ll be thinking he filched a dragon from Gringotts or something.”

“I guess I should be thankful that my housemates aren’t speaking to me,” Hermione said, setting her fork down next to her plate of nearly untouched food. “…though that hasn’t stopped me from hearing all the stories as well. A few of the Ravenclaw students approached me in the library looking for information. I told them pretty much the same thing Tracey did, that I didn’t know what happened. Thankfully we’ve spent most of our time with Harry or I’ve no doubt it would have be far worse.”

Daphne pushed her untouched plate of food away, not even attempting to pretend that she was eating at this point. “If he doesn’t get here soon the meal will be over with and he’ll have nothing to eat at all,” the young witch said in a worried tone. _He needs to eat_ , she worried as she recalled what Madam Pomfrey had said concerning Harry and his body’s need for proper nourishment.

“Do you think we should go look for him?” Hermione asked tentatively only to see the other two witches nod in agreement. The determined looks upon their faces clearly indicating that they were just as worried about Harry as she was. “We should split up to make it easier to find him.”

“But where to look?” Tracey asked before starting to chew on her bottom lip in a thoughtful manner as she pondered her own question.

Blaise sighed heavily and looked at all three witches with a slightly exasperated glare. The young wizard knew that if he had the kind of day that Harry had he wouldn’t want a bunch of people around him.  “You lot are not going to let this go are you?” he asked only to receive three blank stares in return at the apparently absurd question. “Fine,” he continued with, pushing his empty plate away, “I’ll go check the pitch then.” _Maybe at least I can give him a fair warning that these three are looking for him._

“I’ll go with you,” Hermione instantly offered with a hopeful look upon her face as she sprang to her feet.

Blaise simply shook his head. “Boy’s locker room. I doubt if he is still in there that he’ll want you to see him,” the young boy replied as he stood, missing the young witch’s cheeks suddenly turning pink as she blushed at the thought of intruding upon the boy’s locker room.

“Where should we look?” Daphne asked, looking to the other two witches as Hermione sank back into her seat.

“Try the hospital wing,” Blaise answered as he stepped over the bench. “He tends to end up there quiet often.” The three witches could only nod in agreement as the fourth member of their group turned and headed for the doors of the great hall to look for the missing Harry Potter.

**-oOo-**

The young wizard made his way down the hall and through several others before exiting the building. The great castle of Hogwarts was less a castle and more a collection of many building gathered together in close proximity to one another. As Blaise walked along the covered pathway to the connecting structure he paid little attention to the stonework or even where his feet were taking him. Through the next building and out the back into the courtyard area would lead him to the archway that let out on the hillside high above the Pitch.

_What am I going to do?_ the young boy asked himself as his leather soled boots tapped out a steady, if somewhat reluctant, rhythm along the stone flagstones. One hand slipped into his pocket and grasped the letter he had received just that morning. _I still can’t believe that she wrote me, then again I shouldn’t be all that surprised_ , he thought with a humorless snort. _I should have seen this coming after all_ , he told himself as he thought over the contents of the missive once again.

_My Dearest Child,_

_The Manor is not the same without you here my little Blaise. You have always been such a demanding child, one requiring a great deal of attention. I find that in your absence, I feel as though I have no reason to remain here…no purpose in life, other than to await your return. It’s not as if I have a daughter or another child to nurture and care for in your absence._

“Dearest child?” Blaise mumbled aloud to himself. “I’m her only child! A fact she never allows me to forget,” he grumbled to himself angrily as his fist crumpled the letter in his pocket. Though he did not have all the details, the young boy had overheard enough conversations to gather that his birth had not been easy on his mother. While he himself had been born perfectly healthy, his mother’s ability to birth additional siblings had apparently been the price for his coming into the world.

_But enough about me, my dear boy. I hear that you have been doing well in your classes? One hears a great many things in the right circles, even that you’ve made the most unusual of friends. I was certain that the information was unreliable of course. I just didn’t see how that could be true as you had as yet to tell me of your friend, Harry Potter. It must have slipped your mind, no doubt. You always were a forgetful sort of boy. Had you only been born a daughter I’m certain that wouldn’t have been the case._

“All you ever really wanted was a daughter,” growled the irate wizard as his pace, along with his ire, increased proportionately to each other. The dark-skinned youth had heard it all his life. ‘ _If only you were a daughter, Blaise…’_ , ‘ _your only a boy so I shouldn’t expect much…_ ’, ‘ _boys have their uses, limited though they be…_ ’, the sound of his mother’s voice in his heard grated on his nerves.

_However, you are my son and that shall have to do. I want you to become friends with Harry Potter. You are to become close to him, gain his trust and learn as much about him as you can. Anything you find of importance you are to write to me concerning it. I know several parties who will pay handsomely for any information they can get their hands on._

_Even though you are my son you had best not fail me in this regard! Oh yes, less I forget…there is a merchant who has recently made a name for himself…a rather wealthy name. I suspect that you’ll have a new father by the time you arrive for the holidays. Be sure to be respectful and do keep out of the way when you get home._

_Looking forward to hearing from you soon!_

_Mum_

Blaise paused and leaned against the wall as he fumed. _I know I should be used to it by now_ , he told himself. _After years of being told that I wasn’t the daughter she had hoped for it shouldn’t hurt this much!_ The young boy blinked rapidly several times to clear away the tears before they could fall from his eyes. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t cry…that he would never cry again where that woman was concerned. The adolescent wizard fought to regain control of himself as his mind recalled what his life had once been like.

When he had been very little, as well as right up to around the time he turned eight, he hadn’t known that he wasn’t the daughter his mother had so longed for. The Zabini Matriarch had clothed her child in the most expensive of dresses. Only the cutest of outfits would do for her precious little girl. Whatever the latest trend in girl’s clothing was, Blaise found himself adorned in it.   Blaise’s Mum, much to his delight at the time, never left his side or allowed him to be out of her sight for longer than it took to use the loo. They did everything together from eating, to sleeping and even bathing.

Private instructors were hired to teach the young girl dance as well as the piano and proper etiquette for one befitting her station. Lilith Zabini took great pleasure in parading her darling little girl about every chance she got. There wasn’t a high-class party or extravagant Pure-Blood dinner where the two Zabini women couldn’t be found in attendance. Blaise had made a very cute and charming little girl. The boy’s slight build, high cheekbones and long delicate fingers had nearly screamed feminity. Lilith had, in a very short amount of time, found herself with several betrothal requests for her daughter’s hand. Perhaps the most lucrative among those had been the one to the Malfoy scion, Draco.

Blaise took a deep calming breath to steady his nerves as well as his racing heart. _If Malfoy, Nott or any of the others found out about that, my life would be a living hell!_ In the end it had been his mother’s fifth husband who had told him one night, in a drunken stupor, that he was in fact a boy and not a girl. “The sorry, bloke,” Blaise mumbled, recalling that a week later the man had died under rather mysterious circumstances. Blaise knew that it was actually his fault as he had confronted his mother about his gender just the day before her husband had died. It wasn’t long before a story circulated around Wizarding high society concerning the untimely death of the youngest Zabini girl. Most believed that Blaise had been adopted by the Zabini Matriarch to fill the void left by the death of the woman’s daughter.

The first year wizard’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of distant laughter which seemed to echo down the passageway to where he was. On silent feet the boy moved to the end of the corridor and eased his head around the corner only to see no one. The doors at the end of the hall opened out onto a rectangular courtyard and he could feel the cool night air as it gently blew into the castle through the open doors. Roofed walkways, with wide open archways, ran along the outer edges of the courtyard only to join up at its furthest location from the doors. The trail down to the Quidditch Pitch started from just past the gates that were opposite from the doors of the structure.

Blaise slipped along the wall of the hall, staying mostly in the shadows, which wasn’t difficult to do as it was night and the hall was only lit by sparsely placed torches. As he reached the opened doors he peered out and could see that there were three boys standing across the courtyard, near the far gate. Even as he watched, one handed over a lit fag to another before blowing out a lung full of smoke into the night sky. Blaise slipped quickly out the doors and off to one side to hide within the darkness of the corner. _They’re at least fourth or fifth years_ , he thought to himself as he eased a bit closer once he was certain none of them had seen his hasty exit from the building. In another minute he knew who they were, even as he felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

“Did you see the way the little git toppled over when I stunned him?” Peregrine Derrick asked with a nasty grin before he took a drag off the fag that had just been passed to him. “Like a bloody sack of turnips, it was,” the Slytherin Chaser added as he handed the half gone fag over.

Adrian Pucey took a hit of the smoldering tobacco before adding angrily, “I can’t believe the little shite cost us the match!” The boy finally exhaled the smoke as he passed the fag to the third boy. “All we needed was a few more minutes and we would have had them!” The boy shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them warm as the night had a definite chill to it. “Not a peep out of him when he fell off his broom though,” Pucey added with a touch of admiration as he was certain he would have yelled if that had happened to him.

“He screamed like a little girl right enough when he landed in the lake,” Marcus Flint laughed as he accepted the offered smoke and took a long drag. “What the hell was Snape thinking, straddling us with a firstie! The bloody fool can’t even stay on his damn broom.”

“You…you think he’ll be alright?” Pucey finally asked after a minute or so while Derrick took his turn before handing the nearly gone fag to him. “Potter, I mean,” the boy quickly clarified upon seeing the questioning looks from the other two.

“I sure as hell hope not,” Derrick exclaimed rather loudly. “With Potter out of the picture we’ll get a new Seeker. Anyone would be better than that worthless wanker!” Flint just shrugged to show that he didn’t really care one way of the other.

“So, you don’t believe what they’re saying about him?” Pucey asked just before taking a short puff and handing the fag to Flint. “The troll and all I mean,” the Slytherin Chaser clarified, worried about what might happen if the Potter boy lived and ever found out who was responsible for the forced late night swim.

Derrick snorted in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re buying into that rubbish! A mere firstie took out a full grown mountain troll?” The former Beater just shook his head in disbelief at the foolishness of others. “There’s no way Potter has that kind of power!”

“He beat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” Pucey declared defensively. “That couldn’t have been easy. He was a baby and all. Blimey, wish I could have seen that happen!” he added in a wistful tone of voice.

“You and everyone else in the world,” Derrick was quick to point out. “Ways I hear it, no one was there to see it or at least they ain’t talkin about it if they were. If no one was there to witness it then we really don’t know for sure what happened. Do we? Could just be some story that the Ministry cooked up. Potter ain’t all that strong I tell ya. The way the others Slytherin firsties talk, he isn’t anything special.”

“What about the books in the library?” Pucey countered with. “That had to take a bit of talent to do.”

Derrick shrugged, not having actually given the matter much thought when it had occurred back at the start of term. “He probably had help. He’s always got that mudblood with him as well as those other two little bints. If you believe what you hear, they’re fairly smart,” the boy said with a smirk, as he clearly didn’t put much faith in any girl being clever. “I’m sure they could have figured out how to pull that prank off. Even being girls they should have been able to help somewhat.”

“I have to agree with Derrick,” Flint weighed in with after taking the last drag from the fag and dropping it to the ground and stepping on it with his boot. “More than likely it was Dumbledore or one of the other Professors that killed that troll. I highly doubt Potter could have done it,” the Slytherin team captain stated. “What I really want to know though is why the Malfoy brat is protecting Greengrass and Davis. They should have been getting the same treatment Potter’s been dealt if you ask me.”

“If it wasn’t for Malfoy senior and this being our OWL’s year, I would have tossed the little ponce into the lake a long time ago,” Derrick spat out in disgust. “I’ve had more than my share of his prancing about like he owns the bleedin place and expecting every one of us to worship the ground he walks on!”

“True enough,” Flint agreed with the other boy, “However his old man is who he is and all. The last family that crossed Lucius Malfoy just up and disappeared one night. Here one day and no trace of them the next,” the boy stated with a touch of awe in his voice. The others could do little more but nod in agreement.

“We should get back before they realize we’re not at the feast,” Pucey offered with a quick nervous glance about, not liking where the conversation was going. The three of them turned and headed through the courtyard. “Do you really think Potter is dead?” the boy asked as the three of them neared the doors to the castle.

“Probably,” Flint replied with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “Everyone is at the evening feast right now. It’s doubtful anyone will find him in time to save his sorry arse. The way he was thrashing about, I don’t see him lasting all that long. Hard to swim with your school robes on as they tend to weigh you down the more water they absorb. I had an older cousin drown much in the same manner last year,” the fifth year added with a near maniacal glint in his eye as he recalled watching his cousin go under the water for the last time.

Peregrine Derrick chuckled evilly. “I wonder how long it will be before they find his body? Maybe the fishes will have eaten most of him by the time they do!” All three boys broke out in laughter as they walked through the doors into the building. Behind then a frightened boy detached himself from the shadows he’d been hiding in and speed off towards the Black Lake, praying that he was in time.

**-oOo-**

Harry awoke slowly to the realization that he was laying upon his side on something that was rather hard and unyielding. There was the soft repetitive sound of water lapping against something solid that he found to be rather soothing the longer he listened to it. With the darkness behind his closed eyelids, and judging by the cool breeze that was blowing, he surmised it must be well after dark by now.

The young wizard hesitantly opened his eyes only to find himself staring into the prettiest pair of blue irises he’d ever seen before. The eyes, and the girl they belonged to, were no more than a scant inch or two from his face. The girl, no older than himself he guessed, jumped backwards slightly at seeing his eyes flutter open, before regarded him rather intently. “Hello,” Harry spoke softly, too exhausted to do more than that at the moment.

_The last thing I remember was being dropped in the lake_ , he recalled. The evening light in the sky had been trickling down through the water above him as he sank. The young boy recalled thinking it looked rather pretty actually. Just as darkness had claimed him he thought he had seen a flicker of movement before him. _How did I get here?_ he wondered, taking note of the puddle he was lying in as well as his soaked clothing. _Someone saved me?_

The small girl’s full red lips stretched into a smile upon hearing his voice and seeing him awake. “Are you my Jolly Sailor bold?” she asked in a hopeful tone of voice as she bobbed in the water beside the dock upon which the wizard lay. The girl’s wet long black hair was pulled back along her head and cascaded down her back only to disappear into the water. A pale complexion, high cheek bones set beneath wide blue eyes and shallow cheeks gave the girl an other-worldly appearance that the young boy found rather breathtaking.

“I’m Harry,” the confused boy replied. “Harry Potter.” Unable to take his eyes from her, he none the less noticed some of the details of the immediate area about them. It didn’t take him very long to realize that he was laying upon the same dock where the white boats they had ridden to across the lake their first night at Hogwarts, had brought them. _She must have saved me_ , his mind reasoned as he continued to stare. While his mind was functioning normally, his body felt drained of strength as his wet clothes clung to him heavily.

“Wizard Harry Potter,” the girl repeated as she drew closer, once again resting her arms atop each other on the edge of the dock before settling her chin upon them. “Are you my Jolly Sailor bold?” she enquired once more with an expectant smile. It was clear, even to the usually oblivious youth, that the petite girl desperately wanted him to say yes.

“I…I’m afraid I don’t know what that is,” Harry stammered, hating to have to disappoint her. With her change of position, returning to where she had originally been, the girl’s face was only mere inches away from his own again. Her ethereal beauty nearly filled the expanse of his field of vision, though it was her eyes that captivated his attention the most. The young boy wanted to sit up but found he hadn’t the strength to even do that small feat. For now, all he could do was lay there and stare at the girl as she replied in a sad, yet sweet voice.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold,” the girl sang softly. “There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold. Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be, who love a jolly sailor bold, that ploughs the raging sea.” The young girl continued to regard the boy before her intently for a long moment after she stopped her sing-song verse. “Are you he, Wizard Harry Potter? My Jolly Sailor bold? My Jolly Tar?”

“I…I don’t likely know what that means,” Harry haltingly admitted once again. “W…would you like me to be?” he asked. _Perhaps it is something I can do to repay her for saving my life_ , he reasoned. _Maybe it means we can be friends?_ The nearly drowned wizard felt that anyone who would save another person from dying wouldn’t be a bad person. _I can always use another friend_ , he believed, for the Outsiders had shown him just how wonderful true friends could be.

“Oh Yes!” the girl exclaimed excitedly, her smile spreading across her full lips as she raised her head up off her arms. “Do you promise?” she asked as she leaned nearer, the tips of their noses a hair’s breathe from touching one another as she looked him in the eye to ascertain the truth of his words. “Oh do say you will!” she beseeched the young boy.

Harry swallowed heavily, which was no easy feat, considering the position he was currently lying in. Even all the time he had spent with Hermione, Tracey and Daphne hadn’t prepared him for having a pretty girl’s face directly in front of his in this manner. The bluest of eyes gazed into his and he swore he could feel himself being drawn into them. “I…I swear,” he stammered in a soft voice.

The ecstatic girl leaned away and then suddenly thrust out a small delicate hand, the tiniest finger of all bent and expectant. “Promise me that you’ll be my jolly tar when I am ready, Wizard Harry Potter!” she demanded in a stern tone with a seriousness upon her face that would have been well at home upon the countenance of the Head of Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall.

Harry, with great effort, managed to lift his arm and hook his smallest of fingers around hers. “I swear,” he once more repeated, as he pinkie promised the petite girl who was with him. His movements caused his clothes to shift and a sudden chill went up his spine as the wet clothing shifted across his skin and the cold night breeze blew, adding to his discomfort. “Aren’t you cold?” Harry asked, just then realizing that the girl was actually in the water. _If I’m cold then she should be right near freezing_.

“Silly man-child,” the girl giggled as she spun about effortlessly in the water next to the dock. “It is warmer here than at my own home,” she told him, once more coming to rest with her arms stacked upon the dock, her chin now resting on them again so that they might continue to converse. _Was he truly worried for me?_ she pondered, both puzzled as well as delighted by the prospect. “Perhaps one day I shall show you my home, Wizard Harry Potter, if you’d like?” she asked, capturing the boy’s gaze with her own.

“I think I should like that,” Harry replied without a moment’s thought. For some reason he felt that he very much wanted to go wherever she wanted him to. A small portion of his mind wondered at this but as it seemed rather trivial he quickly dismissed it from his thoughts. “Please, just call me Harry. All my friends call me Harry,” he told her in a dreamy tone. “It would be grand to see your home.”

“Home? Wait a minute…won’t you be missed?” Harry enquired, snapping out of his current mental state, concern for his newest friend seeming to wake him from his thoughts. “It is getting very late. I’m sure your folks are probably worried.”

The young girl paled a bit, even though she was already fairly white to begin with. “I must go,” she suddenly told him in a worried tone as her head turned to regard the water behind her as if she expected someone to appear there at that very moment. “If they find out that I’ve been gone…,” she spoke aloud, more to herself than to Harry. “They mustn’t find out about you! I’ll be in trouble for certain,” she added with a sad little pout, turning her gaze once more upon the boy, clearly not wanting to leave him just yet.

Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position with a great deal of difficulty. “Then you should go,” he told her earnestly, though touched by her apparent desire to stay with him. “If you leave now, maybe you can get back before they realize you’ve been gone,” he suggested. “It wouldn’t do for you to get into trouble for talking with the likes of me.” _Who mustn’t find out about me?_ he wondered to himself. _Her parents? Maybe she’s not allowed to have any friends,_ the boy questioned, thinking of his own upbringing at the hands of the Dursleys.

“Wizard Harry, you are my Jolly Sailor now,” she reminded him of as she used her arms to lift her upper torso further from the water so that she might look him directly in the eye. “There is none other that I would wish to speak to more than you!” she declared to the young boy.

Harry felt his cheeks heat into a rapid blush and he hastily adverted his eyes to the side. It was not her words that had the young wizard so flustered but rather the fact that when she had lifted herself from the water it became apparent that she wasn’t wearing a swimsuit or at least not a top of any sort. “It’s Harry. My friends just call me Harry,” he replied in a soft, as well as embarrassed, tone of voice as he studied the distant darkness, trying to look anywhere but at the girl before him.

“Thank you, Harry,” the young girl replied as she leaned towards him and chastely left a parting kiss upon the boy’s blushing cheek that was turned towards her. “I do not know when I shall be back,” she informed him of as she slipped back into the water till just her head and shoulders were once again visible. “The Frozen Tears will come soon so I will not be able to get away. Look for me when the seasons once again change, my Jolly Sailor Harry,” she said as she started to swim away.

“Wait!” Harry called, his head whipping about quickly towards her as he heard her voice starting to recede. “I don’t even know your name,” he called out to her, only to see her swim back till he could once more make out her features in the moonlight.

The girl in the water gave him a warm smile before replying, “I have been called many things by your kind, Wizard Harry Potter. Parthenope, Leucosia, Teles are but a few of the older ones,” she told him. “What would you call me?”

Harry shook his head slightly from side to side. “But what is _your_ name? I don’t want to call you by what others have named you. You must have a name you call yourself? One your Mum and Dad gave you at your birth,” he insisted, leaning forward at the edge of the dock. “Please tell me it.”

The girl paused for a long moment and regarded Harry thoughtfully. “My name is truly unpronounceable for you I fear, Wizard Harry, for it must be sung beneath the waters. It’s closest translated meaning would be ‘ _teardrop_ ’ or Deigryn in the elder tongue of this island,” she offered instead upon seeing his crestfallen look.

Harry pondered that for a brief moment before saying anything. “Then…may I call you Rin?” he asked, taking the last part of Deigryn and using it for a name, unaware of the proper spelling of the word. Upon seeing her questioning look, Harry explained. “It is simple and yet it sounds cute. A most fitting name for you, I believe,” he told her in a rush, hoping he hadn’t offended her in some manner with his choice of names.

“Th…that would be most acceptable,” Rin stammered in reply as she felt heat rise to her cheeks. _Does he truly think me cute?_ The young girl slowly raised a disbelieving hand to her cheeks to confirm that they were in fact warmer than usual. _What a curious thing to feel_ , she mused at the not unpleasant sensation. “Remember to look for me when the weather turns,” she stated as she raised her hand from her cheek and waved to the boy on the docks. “Goodbye, my Jolly Sailor!” she called before turning and disappearing into the night.

“It’s Harry. Just Harry,” the boy in question called back with a large grin as he waved goodbye to the girl now named Rin. “Maybe she’s from Hogsmeade?” he pondered aloud as his arm dropped into his lap. Harry’s head shot up suddenly and peered out across the water as he realized something. _I forgot to thank her for saving me!_ Further musing was cut short as Harry heard a hurried tread of steps coming down the stairs and out onto the dock. The sound of his name being called confused him for a moment. “Blaise?” Harry answered back as the voice frantically calling his name drew nearer.

The dark-skinned Outsider ran up only to stop and bend over with his hands upon his knees as he gasped for air. “Bloody hell, Harry,” the young boy wheezed, “you’re a hard bloke to find!” Blaise exclaimed. _Blimey! I thought for certain he was a goner, the way they were talking! What is he doing here?_ “You alright there, mate? A little late in the year for a swim and all,” the boy stated after pointedly staring at Harry’s wet robes.

“Now you tell me that,” Harry quipped back in an attempt at humor. “Had I known that sooner I could have saved myself these wet clothes, freezing and nearly drowning! You really should be a bit more forthcoming with your wisdom there, mate.”

“Even a Muggle knows not to swim in a Scottish lake in the middle of November, I’ll wager,” Blaise shot back with a humorous snort as he dropped to the stone wharf and leaned back on his arms to support himself. “What happened?” Blaise finally asked after they’d both had a chuckle.

“I’m not really certain,” Harry replied as he lifted a tired hand and ran it through his damp unruly locks. Little by little he could feel some of his strength returning to him. “I was walking towards the castle one moment and then falling in the lake the next. I thought I was a goner,” the boy confessed as he recalled his fruitless struggle to stay afloat. “I never learned how to swim and all.” _Not that I ever had any opportunity to learn_ , he added silently to himself. The Dursleys had never taken Harry anyplace that would require him to swim after all.

“Blimey, they really could have killed him,” Blaise said in disbelief under his breath soft enough so Harry couldn’t hear. “So you managed to swim to the dock here and pull yourself out?” Blaise asked, assuming that was what happened. _Why didn’t he just swim to shore?_ “So they were right to be worried,” the young wizard added in a thoughtful tone.

“Who was worried?” Harry asked, already feeling terrible for making someone else worry about him. Though it was a new sensation, having someone worrying about him, he still didn’t want to cause anyone else any trouble.

“The others,” Blaise replied, meaning the rest of the Outsiders. “No worries. I sent them to the hospital wing to see if you were there already.”

Harry face looked puzzled. “Why would you send them there?”

“Face it mate, the truth of the matter is you do tend to find your way there quite often,” Blaise replied. “I thought you would be there for certain today when you fell off your broom. Whatever happened up there?” he asked, pointing to the sky to indicate he meant when Harry had fallen from his broom earlier that day. The young wizard was relieved when it didn’t appear that Harry minded the change of subject.

Harry gave a slight shrug. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just pants at flying. Perhaps I broke my broom or something. I was flying just fine and then it started to turn and buck as if it were a wild horse or something!”

“Have much experience with horses have you?” Blaise teased the other boy with a grin.

“No. After today I don’t think I’ll be wanting any either,” Harry answered, a small smile upon his own face. “How did you know to find me here?” Harry wondered aloud.

Blaise froze for a second, not knowing what to say. _If I tell him what the older ones did and they find out it could be pretty bad for me_ , he reasoned, a shiver of fear going down his spine. The young wizard, having rushed to the shore of the lake, upon not seeing Harry had run to the dock in the hopes of getting a boat to take out on the water. If nothing else he was determined not to let the fish make a feast of his friend. It was only when he had heard Harry yell out _wait_ to someone that he had realized he had found the missing wizard.

“I guess I just got lucky, mate,” Blaise finally answered. “I tried to think of a place you might have gone to be alone and all. I mean after the day you’ve had, I figured you wouldn’t want to be around a bunch of people asking you a heap of questions. I didn’t fancy much climbing up to the top of the Astronomy tower so I came here instead.”

“Well, at least one of us was lucky today,” Harry said with a slight shiver brought on by a sudden stiff breeze. “I’ve certainly had better days,” he told the dark-skinned boy. _I’ve had far worse as well_ , the young boy thought, _but Blaise doesn’t need to know that much about the Dursleys_ _or my past_.

“Beastly way to have your first game go, Harry,” Blaise offered in a commiserative tone. “You really botched that Blagger on the Gryff Seeker. I still can’t believe you caught the snitch when you did. A bit longer and I suspect we would have at least tied with the Gryffs.”

“Well, about that,” Harry offered, looking a bit sheepishly at the other boy, “I didn’t exactly catch it. More like it ran into me and sort of fell into my hand,” the youth said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I didn’t even know what it was at first till I held it up to take a look at it. Madam Hooch must have seen me with it and blown the whistle at that point.” The dark haired boy paused for a moment before asking, “What’s a Blagger? I heard Madam Hooch call it but I’m not certain what it is.”

Blaise regarded the other boy in disbelief. “Blimey Harry! Didn’t you read _Quidditch Through The Ages_ that I loaned you?” Upon seeing the other boy’s head droop at his question, Blaise was fairly certain that he knew the answer to his own question. “You can’t think that reaching out and tugging a handful of the other player’s twigs is exactly legal!”

“I did just what Flint told me to do,” Harry replied defensively. “He told me that if the other Seeker was about to catch the snitch and I knew I couldn’t beat him to it, but I was close enough, that I should grab his broom and give it a good yank!”

“Flint told you a load of codswallop, Harry! A Blagger is clearly cheating. Says so right in the rules, though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he told you to do that. I mean a good bit of cheating is part of the game,” the Pure-blood wizard admitted a bit more enthusiastically than was probably called for. “Elbows get thrown and players just happen to pass closely in front of other players, effectively blocking them from the Quaffle. We’re Slytherin, so the other Houses expect us to cheat, more or less! You just have to learn not to get caught at it, mate. Be a bit more subtle,” Blaise advised as a grin split his face. “Though subtlety isn’t your strong point exactly is it, mate?”

“I can be subtle!” Harry exclaimed defensively.

“The incident in the library,” Blaise countered with. “The troll on the stairs. Oh so subtle there, Potter.”

“I didn’t mean to kill the troll,” Harry replied a bit sullenly. “I feel terrible about it actually.”

“You need to sort out your priorities, mate!” the dark-skinned wizard exclaimed. “If it hadn’t been for you Daphne, Tracey and Granger would have been flattened! Three lives for one, I think you made the right call, Harry. I still wish I had been there with you! It must have been brilliant to see you take down that beast!”

“Not all that spectacular,” Harry told him. “I was so scared the entire time that I didn’t have much time to think about what I was doing really,” the young boy confessed.

“I can’t say as I blame you,” Blaise replied. “It was a mountain troll after all. I mean they grow a little on the large side! Not a giant, mind you, but big enough for sure! I’m certain I would have been scared of a troll that big too,” he added in an effort to show his friend it was alright to be scared.

Harry’s head gave a slow shake from side to side. “I wasn’t afraid of the troll, at least not much,” he quickly amended upon seeing the skeptical look upon Blaise’s face. “I was more scared of the others getting hurt,” Harry told him, recalling how his magic had once again slipped his control. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had hurt them!” There were several long moments of silence before Harry spoke again. “I guess I must seem like a bit duff to you and all the others?”

Blaise cocked his head slightly to the side, “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t seem to be able to do much of anything right,” Harry replied. “I killed a troll because I couldn’t control my magic. Professor Dumbledore told me that it was accidental magic. Just like that time in the library. I asked him about it when that happen…if it could hurt someone or not.” Blaise listened intently to what Harry was saying, not commenting due mostly to not knowing what to say. “He told me that it was uncontrolled magic and that it could injure anyone around it…around me.”

“But Harry,” Blaise interjected, “accidental magic only happens when we’re really young. By the time we start school it should be all but gone.”

“That’s what the Headmaster told me as well,” Harry replied in a thoughtful tone. “He didn’t seem to have a reason for why it was still happening to me.” The young boy waved a hand dismissively before continuing as they were getting off topic. “The thing is that means I could have hurt Hermione in the library that time, just as I could have hurt all three of them on the stairs. Honestly, I think that scared me more than the troll did.”

“But you didn’t hurt them,” Blaise was quick to point out.

“Not this time,” Harry reluctantly agreed. “W…what if I,” he stammered before shooting Blaise a pleading look, “you know…lose control during class or something?”

“You won’t,” Blaise replied reassuringly.

“But how do you know that?” Harry shot back quickly.

“Its simple mate,” Blaise answered. “You’re the great Harry Potter!” Seeing the boy in question roll his eyes the dark-skinned boy hurried on. “I mean you defeated the Dark Lord! That has to count for something? Just look at all those adventures you had while growing up, mate.”

“Don’t tell me you believe everything that’s written about me too, Zabini?” Harry exclaimed in disbelief. “I read a few of those books written about when I was a small child and none of it is true. Fought a giant when I was five? Honestly!”

“Six,” Blaise corrected him.

“Come again?” Harry asked, having no clue what the other boy was getting at.

“You were six when you fought the giant,” Blaise explained. “Five is when you out-smarted the Vampire King.”

“I think I would recall if I had done either of those,” Harry replied before the other boy could continue. “I didn’t even know there was a Wizarding World until Hagrid brought me my Hogwarts letter just before the start of term. I don’t know who wrote those stories, but it is all a load of rubbish, really.”

“Really?” Blaise asked with a look of utter disbelief upon his face. “No dragons? No out swimming the Mermen?” he questioned only to see the other boys eyes suddenly grow larger.

“That’s it!” Harry exclaimed so loudly that it startled the other boy. “She must have been a mermaid!”

“What?” the eleven year old Pure-blood wizard asked, becoming more confused with each passing moment. “Who was a mermaid?”

“Rin,” Harry replied distractedly as he reasoned it out in his head. _She seemed at home in the water_ , he told himself. _That would also explain how she came to be in the lake to rescue me._ “Blaise, are there Mer…I don’t know, _people_ in the lake?” Harry asked exasperatedly, uncertain of just what was the right way to refer to the aquatic people.

“Of course there is,” the other boy replied in a tone that implied that he thought it was common knowledge. “Merfolk, not people though. My Mum has had a few dealings with them in the past for certain ingredients that she’s needed for a few of her more unique potions. Now who is this Rin girl?” Blaise asked, “And what does she have to do with the Merfolk?”

“She’s the one that saved me,” Harry replied with a slight grin. “When I hit the water I tried to stay above the surface but didn’t have much luck. Never learned how to swim and all. Clothes get terribly heavy when they are wet,” Harry told the wizard with him, in case Blaise didn’t already know that fact. “I think I went under for a bit and then things sort of went dark. When I woke up again I was lying on the wharf here,” he said indicating where he was seated currently.

“I heard that when they come up out of the water they look just like us,” Blaise stated excitedly. “Do they?”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up as he recalled when Rin had raised herself out of the water. “Y…yeah, sort of,” Harry stammered, thankful that it was dark out so the other boy couldn’t see his discomfort.

“They’re not all green and scaly like when they’re in the water, are they mate?” Blaise pressed, sitting forward and leaning in Harry’s direction as he hung on the boy’s answering words.

“N…not green at all,” Harry hesitantly answered the other boy. _More pinkish actually. Definitely not green!_ Harry thought, feeling the heat in his cheeks increasing with each passing moment.

“Bollocks!” Blaise expelled dejectedly. “I can’t believe that I missed seeing one for myself. Well, we’d best be getting back. I’m sure the others are going a bit barmy by now as you haven’t turned up yet.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed, deciding not to mention the fact that Rin would be back at some point. The young wizard knew that he would have all sorts of questions for her in the spring. _Hold up, if she lives in the cold depths of the lake then why wouldn’t she be able to see me again till the weather warms_ , he wondered.

“You alright there, Harry?” Blaise enquired in a concerned tone as Harry struggled to his feet. Rising to his own feet he eyed his friend, debating if he should lend him a shoulder or not. “Need a shoulder to lean on?”

“Just a bit knackered,” Harry explained, waiting to make certain his legs would support him. The time they had spent talking had allowed the young wizard to regain some of his strength. Harry waved off the offer of assistance and took a few careful steps forward. As they walked towards the stairs, the added heat brought about by circulation as well as using his muscles seemed to help a bit, though his wet clothes were still terribly heavy.

“Need a hand?” Blaise asked again as they reached the foot of the stairs.

“I’ll be alright,” Harry told him. “Remind me to look up a charm for drying clothes tomorrow though.”

“Planning on taking another late night swim are you, mate?” Blaise asked, cracking a cheeky grin.

“No,” Harry stated with a weary shake of his head, “but it never hurts to be prepared. Maybe next time it will be you who is all wet. I’d like to be able to at least dry you off.”

“Plan on pushing me in, do you?” Blaise asked good-naturedly.

“Maybe,” Harry quipped back with a matching grin. The two boys continued up the stairs, Blaise matching Harry’s much slower pace. “You know, it’s not as I imagined it would be,” Harry finally said into the silence that had enveloped them for the last dozen steps or so. “Hogwarts, I mean,” the young boy clarified.

“What do you mean,” Blaise enquired as they stopped to give the wet boy a chance to rest a bit.

“I don’t know,” Harry offered with a slight shrug as he turned and leaned against the low wall along one side of the stairs. “I thought it would be different. I guess I thought the Wizarding world would be a place where everyone was friendly and tolerant of others.” He had convinced himself that magic would make everything better in his life. In his young mind the Wizarding world was a fairytale of sorts, where there would be no problems…just magic. What he had found was anything but a fairytale. _If anything magic has made things a great deal worse as well as more complicated_ , he thought to himself. “It’s not that much different than living in the Muggle world actually.”

“Cor! I can’t believe you said that, Harry!” Blaise exclaimed, looking at the boy as if he’d grown a third eye or something as equally bizarre. “You can’t do magic in the Muggle world,” Blaise stated just to make certain Harry had realized that. “At least not till you’re of age. I don’t think I could survive without magic,” he added, having been raised in a home that had always had magic. Magic was as much a part of his life as breathing was as far as Blaise was concerned.

“I know,” Harry agreed reluctantly. “Magic is brilliant and all but I did manage to live without it for the first eleven years of my life. I think I could do without it if I had to. I’d certainly miss it though,” he acknowledged.

“I heard that if you don’t go to a school like Hogwarts that they snap your wand,” Blaise told him. “They then make it so you can’t remember anything about the Wizarding world at all.”

“Why would they do that?” Harry asked as he pushed off the wall and started climbing the stairs once again. “How are you supposed to stay in touch with your friends if they take you memories?”

“I don’t know,” Blaise answered with a shrug. “Mum said there was some law about secrecy and what not,” he added as he turned and continued up the stairs next to his fellow Outsider. “They don’t want the Muggles to know about us. I’m sure we’ll probably cover it at some point this year in History of Magic. I can’t see them sending all the Muggle-born first year students home without them knowing not to use magic.”

_Not very trusting are they?_ Harry thought to himself. “There’s just so much I don’t know or understand here. I really wonder if I wouldn’t be better off back in London,” the boy said, voicing his concerns. “I mean, it might be safer for everyone else that way,” he stated, thinking of his uncontrollable magic once again.

“I wouldn’t let those three hear you say that,” Blaise told him with a smirk at the thought of the earful that the other members of their group would no doubt give Harry. “If you were back in London you’d have to forget all about us Outsiders. I doubt they would like that very much. I know I wouldn’t. I rather like having the famous Harry Potter as a friend!” he said with a teasing grin.

“How about you be the famous one from now on,” Harry suggested, “and I’ll be the friend who is obsessed with Quidditch.”

“What, and deprive you of your late night swims?” Blaise gasped in mock horror at the thought. “Now what kind of friend would I be if I did that?”

“The wet kind I suspect,” Harry replied with a laugh as they reached the top of the stairs and headed for the castle doors. Just as the two boys were reaching their destination one of the doors opened and a person stepped out, blocking their way.

“Out for a late night stroll?” Severus Snape drawled as he eyed the two students over once, noting that Harry’s clothes were completely soaked he added, “Perhaps a swim instead?”

“No, Sir,” both boys replied in unison as they paled at the disapproving look from their Head of House.

“I’m sure there is a story here to be told,” Severus continued with. “Perhaps it will even explain why three first year witches had to be threatened with detention before they would return to their common rooms.” Seeing Harry about to speak the Potions Master help up a silencing hand. “Save it for the Headmaster,” he told them. “I would prefer not to be forced to listen to your excuses twice.” The Head of Slytherin House spun about, his black robes bellowing out behind him dramatically, and set off for the Headmaster’s office at a rapid pace. Behind him the two first year wizards did their best to keep up with his longer strides.

**-oOo-**

“Your thoughts, Severus,” Albus Dumbledore enquired, once the gargoyle statue had informed him that the two boys had passed it on their way to their dorm room in the Dungeon. The Headmaster had dried Harry’s clothes upon seeing the tired dripping boy that walked into his office behind the potions professor.

Severus Snape turned back from regarding the door to the Headmaster office before answering the elder wizard. He wasn’t thrilled that two of his students had been caught out and about after curfew. “The Potter boy clearly doesn’t have an inkling of what happened to him,” the Potions Master offered, having read as much from the boy’s mind. “It would appear that he took a stunner to the back and then was dumped in the lake. I doubt whomever did it expected him to live through the ordeal, Headmaster,” the man said with a steely note to his voice.

“His savior?” enquired the Headmaster, certain there was more yet to tell. Albus was just as certain that the young wizard was not meant to see another sunrise. The attack served to enforce his belief that the Wizarding world was once again heading for dark and dire times.

“One of the Merfolk, no doubt,” Severus answered. “I couldn’t tell which one as I didn’t wish to delve past his surface thoughts. He was more than a little anxious about his friends and causing then undue worry for his wellbeing.”

“Nor should you have,” Albus cautioned the younger man. “I surmised the same, given Harry’s description of the events which transpired. Let us be thankful that one of them was near and decided to offer aid when it was needed. The Merfolk can be rather reclusive for the most part. How unlike them to have someone so close to the school.”

“It shouldn’t have been needed!” Severus snapped tersely, referring to Harry’s rescue. “If something had happened to him…,” the man’s words trailed off almost as if he was fearful of giving voice to them.

“Then Lily’s son would be no more,” the venerable wizard finished for him. “I need not tell you just how much we could ill afford that right now, Severus.” Seeing the man with him open his mouth to speak, Albus hastily raised a hand to forestall him. “I know. I know. I admit I was in error,” Albus offered in way of apology. “I truly didn’t feel he would need a tracking charm on him while he was here at Hogwarts.”

“Harry needs that at the very least, Headmaster,” Severus replied. “The boy seems to have a knack for attracting trouble to himself. You know the vow I am under! If anything were to happen to that boy and I did not do my utmost to protect him…,” once again the Potions Master allowed his words to trail off. They both knew that if that were to happen it would cost Severus his very life.

“A talent neither of his parents shared,” Albus said with a nod of agreement, referring to Harry’s ability to draw trouble to himself like a moth to a flame. “James, most certainly was in trouble a great deal while within these walls,” the wizard said to indicate he meant Hogwarts, “but he brought his troubles home to roost on his own. A fact that often did not sit well with a young Miss Evans as I recall,” Albus added with a slight smile as he momentarily indulged himself and thought about those bygone days.

The dark haired wizard inwardly cringed at the mention of the relationship between Lilly and his hated rival, James Potter. _It is Lilly’s son that I must protect, not his!_ “Harry seems to attract attention by the simple act of breathing,” Severus stated in a worried tone, recalling just how many time the boy had been to the hospital wing already. “Can we not do more for him than a simple tracking charm? Clearly there are those here at Hogwarts who wish him harm.”

“Have you heard anything new from your old contacts?” Albus enquired with an arched brow, referring to the remaining Death Eaters. The Headmaster was worried, and rightfully so, that one of the followers of Lord Voldemort might try and cause Harry harm. He had always known it would be an issue when the boy turned eleven and started his schooling at Hogwarts, however there were just some things which couldn’t be helped, he felt.

Severus raised a hand and waved the question away dismissingly. “Nothing more than what came to life at the start of term when they discovered that Harry Potter was a student here.” For years the remnants of the Death Eaters, denied their master’s guidance, had sought out the location of The-Boy-Who-Lived in order to seek the revenge they felt they justly deserved. “Without the Dark Lord there to tell them what to do, I do not think they will try for the Potter boy…at least not while he is within these walls.”

“Let us hope then that you correct, Severus,” Albus replied. They both knew that a good number of the Death Eaters had children currently enrolled at Hogwarts. All either of them could do was hope that those children weren’t employed to carry out their parents dark wishes. He was already making arrangements for when the school year was over. Now that Harry was in school he home address had to be registered with the Ministry. Albus knew that this meant that the Death Eaters would soon have that information, if they didn’t already have it. _The wards should keep them away_ , he reassured himself, though that did not prevent him from enlisting the aid of others to guard the boy through the summr holidays.

“How are Harry’s growth treatments with Poppy progressing?” the Head of Slytherin House enquired. The Headmaster had made Severus aware of Harry’s condition due to both being his Head of House as well as being a Master potion brewer. Should Madam Pomfrey require any assiatnce.

“There was a slight issue at first but Poppy has assured me that she has it well in hand,” Albus replied. “I’m sad to say, it will take some time to undo what was done to him,” the wizard sighed wearily, feeling responsible for the abuse the boy had received at the hands of his relatives.

“Who could have foreseen that his family would be abusive to one of their own blood?” Severus rhetorically asked. “He was with his Muggle relatives after all. It’s not like he was in our world,” the younger wizard added.

“Still, the blame is mine,” Albus countered with. “I should have at least checked on him from time to time.”

“And lead the Death Eater or worse yet, the Ministry, right to him?” Severus asked with a humorless snort. “We both know that the Ministry would have snatched him in the blink of a dragon’s eye just so they could parade him about as some poster boy for their benefit. If that had indeed happened then it would have been only a matter of time before someone like Lucius or Crabbe senior had gotten to him.”

“Perhaps,” Albus replied a bit absently. “It is little more than conjecture and speculation at this point. Now, we must do what we can for Harry. I will have a talk with his Aunt and Uncle before the end of term. I think it will be for the best if Harry remained here over the holidays. I’m certain the Dursleys will find that agreeable as well,” Albus added with a small smile. After all, everyone has always agreed with his suggestions, why should this be any different?

“You’ll request that most of us remain as well?” Severus enquired. “If the Dark Lord does indeed try to take possession of the stone then you will need us here.”

“Yes,” Albus acknowledged, as he leaned forward and slipped a lemon drop from his candy dish. “In a few days the last item required to defend the stone should be arriving from Romania with Charley Weasley,” the aged wizard added.

“I take it he will be taking Hagrid’s _pet_ with him when he leaves?” Severus asked. Charlie Weasley was a dragon handler who had started work at the Romanian Dragon Preserve shortly after completing his education at Hogwarts in the earlier part of that same year. Ironically enough it had been the Dragon Handlers younger brother, Ronald, who had been bitten by the baby Norwegian Ridgeback.

“Poor Hagrid,” Albus said, as he did indeed feel bad for the half-giant. “He is rather a great deal beside himself as Norbert’s departure date draws nearer.”

“I still find it nearly unbelievable that he thought he could raise the beast by himself,” Severus scoffed. “It takes a squad of six well trained Dragon Handlers to manage a single dragon after all! I’m surprised that the Weasley boy was only bitten. Whatever was he doing around Hagrid’s hut in the first place?”

“Looking for his rat,” the Headmaster answered. “Apparently it had wondered off.” The Potions Master couldn’t help but wonder if the rat wasn’t related in some manner to the Longbottom boy’s toad as both seemed to have an affinity for never staying in one place for very long. “But I digress. I think we shall be as ready as we can be. Most of the students will be safely out of the castle and a good many of the Professors will be on hand, should the need arise.”

“I saw that you did indeed hide the door. That should keep the Weasley twins, as well as others, from getting injured.” The Head of Slytherin House had actually discovered that the twin were in the process of selling trips to see the Cerberus Fluffy on the third floor. Five Knuts a student was the going rate when he caught them at it.

“You’ll continue to keep a watchful eye on Harry,” Albus directed his Potions Master, only to see the man stand and give a curt nod that he would. “One moment before you leave, Severus,” the aged wizard sated as he hastily retrieved a clean piece of parchment from his desk draw and after dipping his quill he quickly wrote out a short note. “I would like Mr. Flint, Mr. Pucey and Mr. Derrick to perform a little…shall we say,” he paused and looked up thoughtfully, quill poised to resume writing, “extracurricular activity for the next several weeks.”

Severus arched a brow as he watched the Headmaster return to writing. “Headmaster?” the Head of Slytherin House queried. _Why would he single out three of the fifth years?_ “What shall they be doing?”

“Earning their House points,” Albus replied as he singed the missive and rolled it up before finally passing it to the Professor. “Rather let us say they will be keeping their House from losing points. You see, while Mr. Potter in fact may have had no inkling of who his attackers were, Mr. Zabini on the other hand, was a surprising wealth of information.”

“Hagrid has been kind enough to inform me that he has several special creatures currently within his care awaiting the next _Magical Creatures_ club meeting. These guests have a predisposition to consuming a great deal and leaving a rather troublesome mess behind them. Given the nature of remains, and the residual magic that may be found in them, it would be best if the three students I mentioned decided not to utilize their wands when they assist with the cleanup.”

“I’ll be sure to inform them of this, Headmaster,” Severus replied. While the headmaster undoubtedly knew that the three in question were responsible for what had befallen Harry earlier that evening Severus also realized that they couldn’t reprimand the youths for their actions or involve Magical Law Enforcement. To do so would require that they also admit to using Legilimency to read the boys thoughts. Such an act was heavily frowned upon by the Ministry as there were strict laws and guidelines governing when Legilimency could and couldn’t be utilized. Subjecting minors to Legilimency was strictly prohibited.  “Goodnight, Headmaster.”

“Goodnight, Severus,” Albus replied as the Potions Professor left the office, closing the door softly behind him. “It seems I have failed you yet again, Harry,” the aged wizard thought as he absently sucked upon the sour confection in his mouth.


	18. The Mirror of Erised

"You know, I still don't buy it," Tracey stated without looking over her shoulder at her friend. "I mean I can understand Harry feeling bad about the game, but to hide out in the locker room all that time?" the auburn haired witch gave a decisive shake of her head as she buttoned up her school shirt. "I mean, who does that?" Tracey asked, turning to face the other witch with her looking for agreement to her statement.

It had already been a day since they had risen early, hastily dressed, before racing down to the common room to see if their friend was alright. The two young witches had sat and fretted for nearly an hour before Blaise, followed by a lagging Harry, had emerged from the boy's dormitory to start their day. When questioned, Harry had confessed to hiding out in the Quidditch locker room, a story Blaise hesitantly corroborated. The reason Harry had given was that he felt bad about losing the game and was embarrassed about falling off his broom.

"I am sure he had his reasons," Daphne replied as she slipped on one black sock, not bothering to look up at her friend as they conversed back and forth. "He did have a rather bad day, Tracey," the seated witch reminded her friend. "The entire House was rather put out with him…not like that's any different from any other day," Daphne added a bit sadly. "I am sure he just didn't want to deal with it," she stated in Harry's defense.

Once again Tracey gave a short shake of her head. "I don't believe that," she replied as she turned and picked up her skirt from her bed before stepping into it. "We all know that Harry is more than a little clueless to the world around him. If anything that would make him a little oblivious to what and how others would act, wouldn't it?" she asked as she pulled up the skirt and zipped it up.

Daphne couldn't help but agree with her friend except that she knew something about Harry that her best friend didn't. _Given Harry's life, could he have thought that he would get a beating or something of that sort for losing the game?_ The young witch really had no clue what being abused was like or what impact it could have on a young child. _I'm fairly certain that it can't be good_ , she told herself silently. _I need to find out more about the kind of abuse Harry went through. Maybe that I can help him!_

"How should I know?" Daphne asked, evading the question as she finished slipping on her other sock. "Maybe he's not as socially inept as we think he is. I wouldn't be surprised if he's fed up with all the whispers and rumors. He's certainly had to have heard them. Everyone deals with things in their own way after all. Maybe he's just never been allowed to be himself and do things his own way before?" she responded with as she stood and reached for her own skirt.

"What makes you think that?" Tracey curiously asked as she scrunched up a sock before thrusting her toes, followed by the rest of her foot, into it.

Daphne froze for the barest of moments, fearful that she might have said too much and given away the fact that she knew something…something incredibly private about Harry, which the others didn't. "He was raised by Muggles after all," the girl answered with, trying to play it off.

Tracey pondered the girl's words for a long moment, her hands still holding the top of her sock where it rested just below her knee. "I guess," she final said. "There is no telling what they may have taught him." Tracey grabbed her other sock and slipped it on absently before stepping into her shoes as well. "They are Muggles after all."

"I know, right?" Daphne replied as she finished pulling up her skirt and zipping it closed as she slipped on her shoes. "Maybe we should talk to Hermione about it," she suggested. "I mean her parents are Muggles after all." _That's right! Hermione's parents are some kind of healers in their world. Maybe she can ask her parents about what happened to Harry? I'll have to be careful about how I ask her though_ , Daphne pondered. The last thing she wanted to do was tip off the overly bright witch about Harry's condition.

"That's brilliant!" Tracey exclaimed. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because I'm the brains of this duo," Daphne quipped, trying to hide a cheeky grin and failing miserably.

"Then that means I must be the beauty," Tracey fired back without missing a beat as she flounced her hair over one shoulder playfully. "I can live with that."

"It's a beautiful world you live in, Davis, isn't it?" Daphne asked with a good-natured smirk.

"Of course it is. Why ever would I want it to be anything other, Greengrass?" Tracey asked in a haughty tone of voice. The two friends broke out into squeals of laughter as they collapsed and rolled around on their respective beds for several long moments. Once the uncontrollable laughter had died down to a smattering of giggles they began to gather their books and other things they would need for class that morning. "It really was a bit brill on your part to think of speaking to Hermione."

"I have my moments," Daphne replied, pausing long enough to buff her fingertip against her chest. "Besides," she quickly added after the two of them shared a grin, "I seriously doubt we'll learn that sort of thing in Muggle Studies. From listening to Hermione rant about that class it is seriously outdated." _I can't help but wonder just how many other classes are outdated as well._

"Harry and her both have said that it is like a hundred years or more behind how the actual Muggle world is," Tracey offered as she slipped the last of her books into her book bag and closed it, securing the fastener. "It kind of makes me wonder just what real Muggles are like and all," she said, turning to face the other witch who was closing her own book bag at that moment.

"I asked my Dad once what they were like," Daphne confessed, gathering up her inkwell and quills before slipping them into a side pocket of the bag before her.

"That's right," Tracey replied a bit excitedly. "Your Dad employees Muggles at some of his businesses. What did he say?"

Daphne gave a slight shrug before hefting her school bag off the bed. "He said they're pretty much the same as us, without the magic of course. They work and worry about their families. They love, hate and fight the same way we do. He did say that they are fairly inventive," she added in a thoughtful tone as the two of them headed out of the dormitory.

"Without magic, I guess they would have to be," Tracey offered. "I saw a Muggle thing they ride in once," she said rather proudly. "It was made out of metal and had windows in it so that they could parade themselves about. I guess they like to show off the fact that they have one at all," Tracey said, recalling that there had been more Muggles walking than in the moving metal boxes. _Maybe only certain Muggles can have them?_

"I think they are called Coopers," Daphne said in a slightly superior and knowing tone.

"Whatever for?" Tracey asked with a puzzled frown as the two of them walked through the Slytherin common room and out the hidden door.

"I'm not really sure," the other witch replied. "Maybe because they're cooped up inside of them?" Truthfully, Daphne had once overheard her father speaking to a Muggle once and they were discussing the blue Muggle transportation thing parked outside the café they were at. She had heard the man refer to it as a Cooper and so assumed all of them were called that. A carriage was a carriage after all, regardless of how it looked.

"They do go fairly fast," Tracey admitted as they started up the stairs. "Not nearly as fast as a broom, mind you. Certainly nowhere near as quick as the floo or apparition."

"I can't imagine living without magic," Daphne said, feeling sorry for Muggles in general. "They must waste a great deal of time just trying to get from one place to another. It must be dreadfully boring to be trapped inside one of those things till you get to where ever you're going."

"Do you think Harry and Hermione have ridden inside one?" Tracey asked as they reached the top of the stairs and headed for the great hall and waiting breakfast. "We could always ask them what it is like," she offered with a trace of excitement in her voice.

Daphne couldn't help but smile, recognizing the tone in her friend's voice for what it was. _You're more like Hermione than you think you are Tracey_ , she thought to herself. Growing up with Tracey she had learned that once her friend wanted to know something she wouldn't stop until she did. It was a trait shared by their bushy-haired friend. _She's like a dog with a bone, she just can't let it go._ "It doesn't hurt to ask," Daphne said, supportively. "I'm certain Hermione would love to help us further our understanding of Muggles."

"I would," Hermione interjected, having heard the tail end of the conversation as her two friends neared the doors to the great hall where she had been waiting for them. "What would I be educating you on?" the Gryffindor witch asked.

"Coopers!" the two Slytherins said in unison.

"Coopers?" Hermione asked, her brow creased in puzzlement at the unexpected answer. "Just Coopers and not all automobiles?" she enquired.

"What's an automobile?" Daphne asked.

"Well they are what the non-magical drive around in," Hermione replied.

"Coopers," Tracey said with a nod of agreement. "That's what they're called so why also call them automobiles? Isn't that a bit confusing?"

"No," Hermione replied, shaking her head slightly from side to side. "A Cooper is a type of automobile," she told the others. The young girl thought for a moment before suddenly realizing how to explain it. "Just like a Nimbus is a type of broom!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

"So there are all types of these auto mo bills?" Daphne asked quizzically.

"Automobiles," Hermione corrected. "Yes, there are a great many different kinds. The manufacturers of them seem to come up with new models and designs every year. They are available in all sorts of shapes, sizes and colors."

"So you've ridden in one before?" Tracey asked, wanting to know what it was like.

"Loads of times," Hermione assured her. "Mum and Dad own a Mercedes. Mercedes is the name of one of the companies that building the automobiles," she added upon seeing their confused expressions. "We'd best get seated or we'll miss breakfast," she added, turning to lead the others into the great hall.

"What is it like to ride inside of one?" Tracey pressed, following the muggle-born witch into the hall.

Hermione, with a little help from Harry once they had arrived at the Slytherin table where all the Outsiders sat, spent the remainder of the meal explaining what it was like to ride in a car. The others, Blaise included as he was just as uneducated about Muggle transportation as Daphne and Tracey, seemed fascinated about the smallest of things. The fact that Hermione usually read a book while riding seemed to amaze them till she pointed out that it was no different than riding the Hogwarts Express really.

"If you like I can ask Mum and Dad if they would give you ride over the holidays," Hermione finally offered the others. If they experienced it for themselves then maybe they understand what it is like better she figured. The others squealed with delight and plans were quickly made for a date to meet up at the Leaky Cauldron. In all the excitement Daphne forgot to ask Hermione concerning abuse and the possible ramifications if could have on a small child.

**-oOo-**

November gave way to the frigid winds of December as the temperatures in the Scottish Highlands dipped even further and refused to rise all that high during the day. The coldness was keenly felt within the large stone castle where the chilled winds seemed to blow through the halls on a regular basis. The students spent a great deal of time in their common rooms where the fires were kept blazing to ward off the cold. Sadly, the weather did not keep the Quidditch teams from practicing on a regular basis.

Harry guided his broom along the edge of Black Lake enjoying the day's weak sunshine. The first time he had tried to attend practice with the rest of his teammates he had been chased from the pitch by bludgers and hexes. It was apparent to the bright lad that his presence was not wished for. Left with little to do and still wishing to practice he had spent the time flying over the Forbidden Forest instead.

The young seeker decided today to fly over the lake in the hopes of maybe seeing Rin once again. _I know she said that she would be gone till after the frozen tears, whatever those are_ , he thought to himself. The young wizard still wished to see her again though, which is what had brought him to the edge of the lake this day. With practiced ease Harry turned his Nimbus and headed out over the open water at a leisurely pace.

As the airborne wizard left the shore behind him the water passing beneath his feet steadily grew darker till it was a uniform black. _I guess that is where it gets its name from._ Emerald eyes scanned the water's surface, hoping to catch a glimpse of his newest friend. "If she is a Mermaid then I would guess that she would live in the deeper part of the lake," he reasoned aloud to himself. Ahead of him the water's surface began to froth and bubble before shooting up into the air directly in his path.

Harry tightened his grip upon the broom and swung to the side, narrowly missing the cold water. Glancing back over his shoulder he saw the water fall and the surface of the lake settle once more. "What was that?" he wondered aloud as he turned back around only to have to roll to the side to avoid another wave of frigid water. As he swerved to the side another wall of water shot into the air, forcing the young wizard to climb into the sky quickly to go over it.

_What's happening_? he asked himself as he looked blow him, catching the hint of something pink disappearing into the churning waters. Whatever it was, it appeared to be keeping pace with him as he moved further out over the water of the lake. It didn't take him long to realize that whatever it was it had to be large to displace that amount of water up into the air.

Before Harry could get a clear look another tower of water shot up into the air, causing him to swerve to the left only to have barrel role to the right to avoid a large tentacle arm that sprang from the water to block his path. Harry grinned as he narrowly missed the member though he had little time to rejoice as two other tentacles appeared causing him to hastily alter his course. Now that he knew what it was the Slytherin Seeker bent low upon his broom and weaved his way through the fleshy members.

For the next hour the young Seeker played tag with the great squid who called the lake its home. Harry had read in _Hogwarts: A History_ that the squid was very playful and had never hurt a student, ever. There were cases where the multi-legged creature had even saved students from drowning in the frigid waters of the lake. _It must be pretty boring for him_ , Harry thought as he ducked under a wave of water, only to grimace as several drops managed to slide down the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. _Maybe he plays with the Merfolk?_

Harry pulled up on his broom and rose high enough to avoid the creatures reach. The water bubbled and the Great Squid's enormous head broke the water enough for it to train its eye on the hovering wizard. "Thanks for the play!" Harry yelled down as he waved to the creature. "I'll try to come back tomorrow and play some more," the boy promised. The squid seemed to wave back as it slowly sunk back beneath the dark water's surface.

Upon returning to the pitch he noted that the others had finished their practice and apparently returned to the castle. Landing near the broom locker Harry quickly stored his broom away. It was one of the conditions of him being allowed to have a broom that it had to remain with the school brooms. Madam Hooch had provided him with the password to the locker as well as the spelled rope that secured his Nimbus. The rope prevented anyone else from taking the much desired broom from its resting place. Madam Hooch had explained that all brooms were kept in the locker to prevent having students flying through the halls of the castle. Apparently there had been any number of accidents before the rule was brought into play nearly a hundred years ago.

Harry quickly left the pitch and made his way up to the castle. Now that he wasn't dodging sheets of freezing water and the appendages of a playful squid he realized that it was fairly cold outside. The trail led up a hill and then through a gate before he finally made it to the relative warmth of the old drafty castle. Harry was walking along a corridor when he heard a voice call out behind him.

"Oi! Scarhead!" Draco Malfoy called out. "Where are you off to?" questioned the blonde youth as those with him snickered.

The last thing Harry wanted to do at the moment was deal with the Malfoy scion so he turned right into the first corridor that came along and broke into a run. Behind him he could just discern over the noise of his own running feet that the boy had given chase. From the sounds behind him, Harry assumed that Malfoy's shadows, Crabbe and Goyle, were with him as well. Harry had loads of experience with running from bullies. Dudley and his friends had enjoyed a game they called ' _Harry Hunting_ '. It hadn't taken Harry long to figure out that he only needed to stay ahead of his pursuers for a while before they would give up. Especially Dudley, who couldn't run a great distance to save his life without gasping for air and clutching his side.

Harry quickly dashed down another corridor and then turned right at the next intersection. _If I can get far enough ahead of them and they can't see me they'll probably give up_ , he reasoned. He couldn't picture either Crabbe or Goyle running for any length of time without collapsing like his cousin. The fleeing wizard ducked down several other corridors before selecting a random classroom door. With barely a thought Harry yanked open the door, jumped into the classroom and closed the door behind him.

Slowly Harry slid down the door till he was sitting upon the floor with his back against the door. He tried to slow his breathing so that he could hear if anyone was coming. After several long tense minutes he guessed he had given them the slip. The young wizard rose to his feet and pulled out his wand. " _Lumos!_ " the wizard called, causing the tip of his wand to light up brightly, allowing him to see the room he was in.

It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket to one side. Propped against the wall facing Harry was something that didn't look like it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way. It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.

Harry raised his wand to get a better look at the inscription, puzzling over its meaning. "It's backwards!" he suddenly realized. "I show not your face but your heart's desire," he read aloud as he stepped forward till he was directly in front of the mirror. Harry had to clap his hands over his mouth to stop himself from screaming as he saw his reflection. He whirled around. His heart pounding far more furiously than when Malfoy and the others had been chasing him, for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind him.

Raising his wand higher into the air to shred its light further, the boy took several steps away from the mirror towards the door. "Is anyone there?" he enquired into the stillness of room. After several long moments of silence Harry turned back around and noticed that once again the mirror was not reflecting any image at all. Gathering his courage the boy once more stepped before the mirror and watched as the same grey indistinct shapes of people appeared.

Harry resisted the urge to turn about and see if anyone was actually there. The young boy's heart was beating furiously within his chest. As he watched the three nearest shapes shimmered and came into focus. Harry gasped, seeing his friends Tracey, Daphne and Hermione. "A...are you really there?" he asked in a halting tone of voice only to see the three girls in the image smile and nod slightly as if to his question.

Harry spun about with a huge grin upon his face. He wasn't certain just how his friends had come to be there but he was glad of their company. As his eyes fell upon the empty room behind him the smile slowly slipped from his face. Perplexed, the young wizard turned back towards the mirror once more and watched as the image of his friends appeared once again.

As Harry watched Daphne turned and laid a hand upon his shoulder as Hermione slipped her hand around his bicep on the other side. Not to be left out Tracey stepped up behind him and rested her chin upon the shoulder nearest to Hermione. Harry found it very disconcerting to see himself being touched and yet not being able to feel anything. A quick glance to either side showed him that he was truly alone in the room. "My heart's desire," he mumbled to himself as he once more looked into the image in the mirror.

All three girls were smiling just as they always did when the Outsiders were together. From the brief glances they shared with each other it appeared that they could see each other as well. Another form shimmered and came into focus revealing the form of Blaise Zabini who gave a grin and a nod towards Harry. The wizard, though in focus, still appeared to be behind as well as further back than the witches who were standing with Harry. It was as if Blaise was a part of the image but not part of the group currently with him, or so Harry thought as he regarded the mirror intently.

"I don't understand," Harry stated to his friends in the mirror. "Are you guys my heart's desire?" he asked as his brow creased in thought. Turning away from the mirror Harry retraced his steps to the door and left the room, being certain to close it behind him. The young wizard made certain to pay close attention to where the room was at as he made his way back towards the inhabited portions of the sprawling castle.

"How can they be my heart's desire?" Harry asked himself. _I mean I can see maybe wanting to be rich or courageous, possibly even to be with my family_ , he pondered as he walked along. _Well maybe not my family_ , he reasoned recalling that the only family he knew were the Dursleys and that was really the last thing he wanted. A sudden thought struck him, "What was Blaise doing there?" Sheltered though he may be Harry did understand that boys were usually attracted to girls. For instance there was a certain weather woman that uncle Vernon never missed watching. _But that's not till I'm loads older._

Before he knew it Harry found himself outside the entrance to the main hall where the evening meal was being served judging by the noise funneling through the open doorway. He made his way along the Slytherin table, ignoring the glares directed at him be many of his housemates. It was apparent that many still were not finished with blaming him for their House's loss to the Gryffindor team.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked sharply as Harry made to seat himself at the end of the table with the other Outsiders.

"Quidditch practice," Harry replied distractedly as he couldn't seem to get his mind off what he had seen in the mirror. _Boys only like girls when they are grown up and married though_ , he thought to himself. _Uncle Vernon said I would never find anyone who would want to be with a freak like me and that it would be better off if I never became a parent. Maybe that's it! Maybe I want someone to love me! That can't be it,_ he thought, recalling just who he had seen in the mirror.

"I thought practice was over hours ago?" Tracey asked in a confused tone.

"Really?" Harry replied, only then noticing that above them was the twinkling of the night stars where the great hall's ceiling should be. "Wait, that can't be right," he mumbled as he was certain it had still been early afternoon when he had returned to the castle and given Malfoy and the others the slipped. _Was I at the mirror that long? That would have been hours!_ He realized.

"We were starting to worry that something might have happen to you, Harry," Daphne told him in a worried tone of voice. The young witch could clearly see that Harry was confused judging by the boys expression. "You sure you're alright, Harry?"

Harry mentally shook himself trying to put aside his encounter with the mirror for the time being. He could feel their eyes upon him, awaiting his reply. "I'm really sorry," he offered the three of them with a heartfelt smile. "I guess the time just got away from me."

"Don't worry mate," Blaise offered, "I told them that you were flying and probably just didn't want to come down. I know I would be up in the air as much as possible if I had a Nimbus to use!"

Tracey snorted humorously. "That would be just so you couldn't do your assignments," she quipped.

"You wound me with your slander, Davis!" Blaise exclaimed in a dramatically offended tone, drawing laughs around the table. "However true your words might be," he added with a wide grin.

"We're all going to the library after we're finished here?" Hermione asked once everyone had filled their plate and started to eat. "I need another reference book for the essay for Professor Snape."

"For the Wiggenweld Potion?" Daphne asked as she too felt she needed some additional information to flesh out the essay in question. Seeing the bushy-haired witch nod in way of answer she added, "I'm in."

"Sounds good," Harry replied as Tracey just gave a nod as she was busy chewing.

"I'll pass," Blaise offered. "It pays sometimes to have a Mum that is into brewing," he told them only for everyone to break out in laughter as Tracey stuck her tongue out at him in was of response.

**-oOo-**

Harry sat chewing on the end of his quill lost in thought over the mirror he had discovered. He had long since given up any pretense of studying or working on his assignments. The three witches seated at the table with him had more than once exchanged worried glances between themselves. When they had asked him what he was thinking about he had responded with something about Quidditch practice or one of their study assignments.

"I think we should head back now," Hermione stated as she closed her textbook. "It should be close to curfew and I have to climb all the way up to the seventh floor," she added with a dejected sigh.

"I…I think I'll stay a bit longer," Harry said upon seeing the other stand and start to put their things away. "I just need a bit more for this essay," he offered in way of explanation, glancing down at the partially filled piece of parchment before him.

"We can stay with you," Tracey was quick to offer.

"N…no that's alright," Harry countered with. "I shouldn't be long. I'll catch up with you in the common room." The three witches finished packing their things and after saying bye to Harry left the library. As soon as his friends were out of sight Harry hastily packed up his own stuff, cramming them into his book bag as quickly as he could. After waiting several more minutes the young wizard left the library, descending to the first floor of the castle before making his way to the room the mirror was located in.

Harry slipped into the unused classroom and quickly dropped his book bag near the door. "Now then," he said aloud as he approached the mirror and stood before it, "There has to be a reason why I am seeing them." Once again the images of the three witches he had just left appeared standing next to and behind his reflection. "Hi guys," he offered with a small wave which the images, including the one of himself, returned.

"I still don't understand it," Harry stated. "If this shows me my heart's desire then why am I seeing Daphne, Tracey and Hermione?" As he regarded the images in the mirror, half hoping they would provide the answer, the image of Blaise appeared once again just as it had before. Behind the Slytherin boy there were other vague images of people but there were blurred so that he couldn't tell who they were.

Harry's brows creased. "Well, that's new," he said as the images suddenly faded from view till not even his own reflection was in the glass anymore.

"So this is what had you so distracted, is it?" Tracey asked, startling the boy, who spun about nearly quick enough to lose his footing. The young Slytherin girl crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow in question.

"What? How?" Harry stammered upon seeing the three witches regarding him with questioning expressions upon their faces.

"I think those should be our questions, Potter," Daphne replied in an even tone, not sure what to make of the wizard's actions. She was glad that Harry was alright, but perturbed at the same time that he had been hiding something from them.

"You didn't really think you could sit there all evening, without hardly touching your assignments, and not cause us to worry?" Hermione enquired. "We're your friends. If something is bothering you then you should share it with us," she gently chastised him upon seeing the guilty expression on his face.

"No. I mean…" Harry began with, only to trail off, not really certain what to tell them. The young wizard's shoulders sagged as his eyes fell to the floor. "I am really sorry for causing you to worry about me. It wasn't my intention," he finally told them.

"Apology accepted," Tracey quickly said. "So what's with the mirror?" she asked, looking over his shoulder at the large ornate mirror curiously. "You don't strike me as the vain Type, Potter," Tracey added. "If anything I would think that would be Malfoy."

"That is what I am trying to figure out," Harry replied in a frustrating tone of voice ignoring the girl's snide comment. "When I look into the mirror, I see the three of you next to me," he told them. All three witches turned and looked in the mirror upon hearing his words. The reflection in the mirror showed nothing but the empty classroom and its assortment of stacked desks.

"I don't see anything," Tracey replied, leaning forward a bit to get a better view. "I don't even see all of us. Are you sure it isn't broken?"

"Do you know what the inscription means, Harry?" Hermione asked as she cast her own _Lumos_ and held her wand higher to get a better look at the words.

"You have to read it backwards, like you're looking at it in a mirror," he absently replied as he stared at the mirror trying to figure out why there was no image in it currently. _It always showed me when I stood here. Maybe…maybe it only works for me? That doesn't make any sense at all!_

All three witches looked up at the top of the mirror and read the letters there backwards, only to promptly start blushing at the implications. "You…you said you saw us in the mirror, Harry?" Daphne dared to ask, her own cheeks ablaze. We're Harry's heart's desire?

"Uh huh," Harry replied without a thought. "Maybe it only works if one person it standing before it," he hazard a guess aloud. "Tracey, stand here," he directed the blushing auburn-haired witch. Reaching out he took Hermione and Daphne's hands and pulled them to the side, headless of how they avoided looking directly at him. "What do you see?"

Tracey stared into the mirror for a long moment and then gasped, one hand flying to her trembling lips. "Mum? Dad?" the suddenly distraught witch exclaimed in a trembling voice as her eyes filled with tears. "No!" Tracey yelled, thrusting out an arm, halting her three friends in their tracks as they moved to comfort her. "I haven't seen them in so long," Tracey said in a sad voice as tears slipped from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "Just a few more minutes. Please…just a bit longer," she begged in barely a whisper.

Tracey took a stuttering step closer to the mirror till her nose was almost touching it. Her parent stood there with loving smiles on their faces and waved to her as she stared hungrily back at them. The years of pain and feeling abandoned by them just seemed to disappear as if they had never happened. The young witch raised her hands and placed them flat against the glass of the mirror as though she was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. She had a powerful kind of ache inside her chest, half joy, half terrible sadness.

Tracey wasn't certain how long she stood there gazing at her parents but eventually the image waivered and then vanished. "No!" she screamed in a pleading tone of voice, only to feel two sets of arms hug her and pull her away from the mirror and towards where Harry was waiting. Pulling away from Daphne and Hermione, she lunged forward and collapsed against Harry chest, sobbing heavily into his robes. The young wizard could do little more than hug his friend as she cried.

"I want to look," Hermione said turning to look at Daphne. "I haven't seen my parents in a few months so it will be good to see them again, even if only for a few minutes." The blonde Slytherin simply nodded and stepped over next to Harry and Tracey and began rubbing small sympathetic circle on her friend's back in an attempt to comfort her.

Hermione Granger turned to face the mirror and gathering her Gryffindor courage opened her eyes. For a long moment it was if there was nothing but her own reflection then the image changed. The young witch's eyes slowly but steadily began to widen as the color rose in her face. Try as she might she couldn't pull herself from the image which was there before her. After several long minutes she heard Daphne calling her name and just barely managed to turn her head. By this time her face was beet red all the way up to the tips of her ears.

"Well, did you see them?" Daphne asked as Hermione numbly walked over. "Wait, what did you see?" she suddenly asked as she realized that the witch was blushing profusely.

"N…nothing. N…never mind!" Hermione stammered in way of reply. "How's Tracey?" she enquired, trying to look at the witch in question without looking at the wizard holding her.

"I'm alright," Tracey replied, lifting her head from Harry's chest. "Sorry about that," she offered after a short sniffle. "I really thought I was past all that. Guess not," she added with a weak smile as she accepted a threadbare handkerchief from Harry and dabbed at the tears on her cheeks.

"Guess it is my turn," Daphne said, taking a deep breath and expelling it sharply. The petite witch stepped before the mirror trying to ignore the nervous butterflies in her stomach that were playing Quidditch from the feel of it. _Right, what's to be afraid of? Tracey broke down in tears and Hermione was so embarrassed that you could feel the heat radiating off her face. Nothing to be afraid at all!_ The young witch stood before the mirror for several minutes before a smile blossomed on her face.

"Well?" Hermione asked as Daphne turned away from the mirror and moved to join them. "What did you see?"

"My sister, Astoria," Daphne was a little too quick to reply with. Tracey arched a brow in question realizing that her friend was not telling the truth but decided not to push the issue. "I think we better head back as it is past curfew already," the blonde witch stated in an attempt to change the subject.

"I'll walk Hermione home," Harry offered, looking towards Daphne to indicate that she should take Tracey back to the Slytherin common room.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed loudly before the words had barely left Harry's lips. "I…I mean I think Tracey needs you more right now. Also if you walk all the way up to the seventh floor there is a greater chance you'll get caught. I'll be fine," she assured them. "If I get caught I'll just say that I lost track of time in the library."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, uncertain of what to do. As much as he wanted to see her safely back to the Gryffindor rooms, he couldn't ignore Tracey's desperate grip upon his arm.

"I'll be fine, Harry," Hermione answered without hesitation.

"Alright, if you say so," Harry replied reluctantly as he stepped forward and gave her a hug. "Sweet dreams," he said near her ear.

"T...thanks," Hermione said before leaving a chaste kiss on his cheek. "You too," she added as she pulled back, her face once again a bright red.

The four Outsiders quickly made their way back to the Grande Stairway where they parted company with Hermione who headed up while the remainder of them descended into the dungeons. Surprisingly everyone made it back to their dormitories without getting caught.

**-oOo-**

Harry sighed heavily as he watched Hermione get up from the table and disappear within the maze of bookshelves that was the Hogwarts's library. It had been two days since the four of them had stood before the mirror he had discovered within an unused class room. Since that time the Gryffindor witch had been acting rather peculiar. It wasn't that she was avoiding his company as she still sat with them as usual, however something certainly had changed between them.

Harry still couldn't help but feel as though the bushy haired witch was keeping her distance. When they were all together, he noticed that she always sat the furthest from him. The few times he had tried to speak with her alone to see how the rest of her house was treating her, she had deftly avoided him by one means or another. _I must have done something to upset her_ , he reasoned as he continued to look in the direction she had left, even long after she was gone.

Daphne frowned, noting the dejected look which had settled upon the wizard's face across from her. "You alright there, Harry?" she asked.

"Hmm?" Harry answered distractedly as his head turned and regarded the blonde Slytherin witch. "Yea, sure," he quickly added, plastering a smile on his face for her benefit. The young wizard looked down at the parchment and started writing once again; pausing every so often to glance in the direction Hermione had gone. _I just wish I knew what I did to upset her_!

Daphne turned towards Tracey to see if she knew what was going on only to see her best friend staring off into space, clueless to the exchange that had just taken place. Using her elbow she nudged the witch next to her startling her from her thoughts.

"Huh? What?" Tracey asked turning to look at her friend with a slightly puzzled expression.

"You looked miles away," Daphne said with a small grin.

"I'm not feeling well. Think I'll head back to the dorm," Tracey said as she started putting her things away. "Nothing serious," she added upon seeing the concerned look that appeared on Daphne's face at her words. "Think I'll have a bit of a lie in as I'm feeling knackered."

"I'll walk you back," Harry offered, both concerned for his friend as well as feeling that maybe Hermione may not want him around. _If I have upset her than she'll probably be able to study better without me here_ , he reasoned.

"No, that's alright," Tracey hastily replied. "If you do that then who will walk Hermione back or escort Daphne down to the dungeons? "I'm just feeling a bit tired is all, really. Nothing to worry about," she assured them both as she put the last of her things into her book bag. The witch quickly left the library after promising to see them tomorrow.

Daphne watched Tracey leave with a worried frown before she turned back towards Harry. "So," she began with, drawing the boy's attention. "What is going on between Granger and you? Don't bother denying it," she added, seeing him about to object. "You look like a puppy that's been kicked and she seems to be intent on being as far away from you as she can be while still being near you."

Harry's shoulders rose and then fell as he exhaled heavily. "I wish I knew," he mumbled as his eyes fell to the parchment before him. "I think I must have made her angry at me or something. "Maybe…maybe she would be happier if I wasn't around anymore?"

"What did you do?" Daphne enquired.

"Nothing," Harry whined. "At least nothing I can think of."

"Did you say anything to her?" the Slytherin witch asked. As near as she could recall, Harry had been his usual kind and courteous self.

Harry shrugged as he looked up at her with a thoroughly depressed look upon his face. "You tell me. You've been with us every time we're been together these past few days. Did I say something inadvertently that she might have found offensive?"

"If you had I'm certain we would have called you on it, Potter," Daphne told him with a knowing grin. After several minutes of contemplation she finally had an idea. "Harry, why don't you go back to the common room? I'll talk with Hermione and see if I can't get her to tell me what the problem is." After a multitude of _thank yous_ , a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, Harry rushed out of the library hoping to catch Tracey and walk back with her.

Hermione, having found the large tome she went looking for, returned to the table with the book open and reading it as she walked. The Gryffindor witch stopped upon reaching their table, only then did she noticed that Daphne was now the only one still at the table. "Was it something I said?" she asked with a playful smirk.

Daphne chuckled. "Tracey wasn't feeling well so Harry offered to walk her back to the Dungeon so she could rest." It was close enough to the truth that she didn't feel too bad about lying to her friend. "I still have work to do so I decided to stay," she told Hermione. "Besides, if you had come back to an empty table you might have felt like we were avoiding you."

"I get enough of that from my own House," Hermione replied with a rueful grin. "I don't know what I would do if it wasn't for all of you," she said as she retook her seat once more, carefully setting the large book down. "I hope Tracey is alright. It's terribly nice of Harry to walk her back," Hermione added is a slightly wistful tone.

"He's sweet that way," Daphne said, agreeing with her.

"I know, right?" Hermione replied with a soft smile as she thought of the wizard who was her very first friend.

"So why are you avoiding him?" Daphne bluntly asked, deciding it was far better to cut right to the chase than try to draw the reason for her behavior out of her a little at a time. Daphne did like to see the sorrowful expression Harry had worn just a few minutes ago any more than she liked watching Hermione avoid the wizards company.

Hermione blinked, confused by the other girl's challenging tone of voice, before stammering, "I…I'm not avoiding him." The witch quickly glanced down at the book before her as she felt her cheeks heat into a blush. "W…whatever would give you that idea?"

"You always take the seat furthest from him and never on the same side of the table as him," Daphne started with. "The only time you've spoken to him in the past few days is when he's asked you a direct question. You don't want him to escort you to the Gryffindor tower. Maybe it is the sad dejected look that Harry has been wearing the past couple of days! Whatever he did it is hurting him that you seem to want nothing to do with him."

Hermione's head snapped up at her words. The witch's eyes were large with surprise at the news that her actions were causing Harry pain. "I never…it's not anything he did," she sputtered, suddenly feeling terrible. She knew that she had been acting strange around Harry. She had tried to act natural but whenever she was near him she would see…, _why can I not get that image out of my head?_ she asked herself as the heat rose in her face.

"Well, he thinks he did something to offend you," Daphne told her, repeating what the wizard had said not all that long ago at their very table. If the first year Slytherin was curious as to why Hermione's face was a bright red she hid it well.

"He didn't do anything," Hermione reiterated. "It's me. Just me and that stupid mirror," she stated. "I don't know why I let it get to me."

"What did you see?" Daphne asked, curious to know. Seeing the witch across from her hesitate she pressed on. "I think we are both a bit more mature than our ages would indicate, Hermione. I hope you know by now that we're all your friends and no matter what you saw in the mirror it won't change anything between all of us."

Hermione chewed her bottom lip for a long moment. She had always felt that she was far more mature than her peers. It wasn't that she expected them to be more mature but rather she realized that from all that she had read and studied that she had acquired a greater knowledge and understanding of the world. It was only natural that with that would come a quicker growth into maturity. "Well, girls do mature faster than boys do," she replied with a small grin as once again her complexion returned to a more normal tone.

"If only it weren't so!" Daphne declared with an eye roll. The young Slytherin had attended enough high society functions with other Pure-bloods to know that the boys her own age were anything but mature. Sadly, many of those older than her were just as immature. "So, are you going to tell me what you saw or do I have to hex it out of you?" she asked as she brandished her wand threateningly.

Hermione grinned, realizing that Daphne was correct and that they were friends and should be able to talk about anything. More so than being friends, they were both girls. If anyone would understand her problem, Hermione was certain that it would be Daphne. "Aright, but you have to promise not to tell Harry!"

"Girl talk remains girl talk," Daphne assured her. "Though I might share it with Tracey when she feels better."

Hermione gave a slight nod of permission. "When I stood in front of the mirror I saw..," the witch paused, liking her lips as her cheeks slowly turned pink and then blossomed into a bright red once again. "I saw Harry and he was with me," she quickly confessed. Seeing the other girl's confused expression she added. "He was holding my hand and…and, he kissed me!"

It took only a second for what Hermione had said to sink in. "He kissed you!" Daphne exclaimed loudly, her eyes nearly bulging in disbelief.

"Shhhh!" Hermione hissed trying to shush her. "On the cheek!" Hermione clarified, suddenly blushing to the tips of her ears as she realized how Daphne had taken her words.

"But…," Daphne stammered after a moment, "he already does that."

"I know!" Hermione snapped irritably. "But this time is was different. It was like we were…together," she stated in a softer tone.

"Together?" Daphne asked.

"Together, together," Hermione replied with a nod of confirmation.

Daphne stared at the witch across from her for a long moment before her lips puckered out in a silent _O_ as she realized what Hermione meant. "Together."

Hermione nodded once again in agreement. "It is so embarrassing that I've hardly been able to look at Harry. Every time I see him I see that image in that mirror again! What am I going to do?"

"Well, the first thing you need to do is let Harry know that he hasn't done anything to hurt your feelings," Daphne replied in a thoughtful tone. "We're probably too young to be thinking about anything else."

"Yea, too young," Hermione agreed in a shaky voice. Both witches realized that though they may be more mature than the boys in their class they were not yet ready to start thinking about being together with anyone other than in the capacity of friendship. "Came here to learn magic after all," she added only to see Daphne hesitantly nod in agreement.

**-oOo-**

Tracey Davis slipped along the corridor, staying in the shadows, so that none would notice her. One thing she was well known for was her unerring sense of direction. It didn't take her overly long to find the classroom she was looking for. The young witch paused at the door, glancing both ways along the hallway before she opened the door and quickly slipped through it, closing it as quietly as possible behind her.

The first year student traversed almost the length of the classroom before pulling forth her wand. " _Lumos!_ " she said, bringing forth light from the tip of the slender piece of wood in her hand. A few further steps found her once again before the mirror that Harry had discovered. "Hi Mum, Dad," she said to the images which formed in the mirror. "I've missed you both so much," she told her parents as she slowly seated herself upon the cold floor, never taking her eyes from them.

Sitting there she told them about her day. Which classes she had, what they studied and how well, or poorly in the case of potions, she had done. Her mother, a striking woman with the same auburn hair that Tracey wore, smiled down lovingly at the seat girl. The dark haired, brown eyed Mr. Davis nodded contentedly, his eyes shining with encouragement and love for his only daughter. Seeing their smiling faces and the love that they so evidently had for her, Tracey felt the tears once more begin to run down her cheeks. The distraught witched hunched over, her face in her hands, as she began to cry for what she never had, her parents love and praise.

How long she had sat as such she wasn't certain of but suddenly there was a warm pair of arms about her and someone murmuring her name in her ear. Tracey turned slightly and buried her face against Harry's shoulder. "Why? Why?" she begged, grasping the boys robes till they were balled up in her clenched fists. "Why don't they want me? Why can't they love me?"

"I don't know, Tracey," Harry told her as he held the weeping witch, gently rocking her back and forth without even realizing he was doing so. "My own family…," he started to say before pausing to consider his words, "are less than stellar. They didn't want me either," he shared with her. "They were all too happy to remind me of that fact every chance they got. Sometimes I just don't understand grownups," he confessed with a sad shake of his head.

"How can they not want you?" Tracey asked between her sniffles. "You're The-Boy-Who-Lived. You're Harry Potter!" she exclaimed in a slightly disbelieving tone of voice as she sat up and looked at him only to see a sad crooked smile and pain filled emerald eyes regarding her.

"That stuff mattered even less to them than it does to me," Harry said as he reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "To them I was just the freak that lived in the cupboard under the stairs," he told her without a trace of bitterness or anger in his voice. "My aunt and uncle hate magic as well as anything to do with our world, including me."

"Oh Harry!" Tracey exclaimed, momentarily forgetting her own sorrow as her heart went out to the boy before her. "That must have been awful!"

Harry gave a lopsided shrug as he settled his hands in his lap. "I guess they were right in some sense. I am a wizard after all. That would make me a freak to them as well as everyone else who lived in Little Whinging."

"You are not a freak!" Tracey declared, her voice holding an angry note to it. "How anyone can possibly think that about you is just ludicrous! You're no more a freak than I am."

"I don't know, Davis," Harry replied, a cheeky grin slipping across his face. "I associate with a Gryff. Party with a bunch of ghosts and can't play Quidditch correctly. I think that pretty much makes me a freak even in our world."

"Let's not forget that you do tend to hang out with a bunch of icky girls, Potter," Tracey shot back, a smile blossoming upon her lips.

"Really?" Harry asked in feigned surprise. "Here I thought you guys were hanging out with me all this time!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, Potter? We're girls, not guys," Tracey quipped with a grin.

"There it is," Harry told her. Seeing Tracey's slightly puzzled expression he explained. "That smile of yours that I haven't seen for the past few days. Your smile is always the one that brightens our group up, Tracey. It has been downright depressing not seeing it of late."

"Is that so?" the young witch asked, suddenly feeling her cheeks burning into a slight blush at his gentle words.

"We should probably get back," Harry suggested as he climbed to his feet, missing the witch's reaction to his words. "I'm certain it is after curfew already," he added as he offered his hand and helped Tracey to her feet once she took the proffered member. "Want to say goodbye?" Harry enquired with a tilt of his head towards the mirror.

Tracey gave a nod and then faced the mirror once Harry had stepped to the side. Once again she saw the image of her parents, their eyes again watching her lovingly as they never had in real life. "Bye Mum, Dad," offered in parting before turning away to face the wizard with her once more. "How about you?"

Harry thought for a long moment before declining. "I think I'm alright. I don't need a mirror to show me my friends. I just need to look around me to see all of you."

"Very wise words, Mr. Potter. Five points for Slytherin," spoke a soft grandfatherly voice from the edge of the wands light. Both students turned about if surprise to see the Headmaster standing there wearing a soft humorous smile. "Back again, are we Ms. Davis?"

"So," said Dumbledore before Tracey could reply, "you, like hundreds before you," he continued with as he stepped nearer to them and into the light cast by Tracey's wand, "have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that," Harry replied, turning slightly to regard at the mirror once more.

"But I suspect you've both realized by now what it does?" the aged wizard queried.

"I…it show's me my family," Tracey hesitantly replied.

"And our young Mr. Poster here saw you and a certain two other witches, I believe," Dumbledore told her with a knowing smile as Harry's mouth hung open in surprise. "Let me help. A person who had everything they ever wanted would stand in front of the mirror and see only themselves."

"It says that it shows us our heart's desire," Harry stated, looking up towards the inscription at the top of the mirror.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known the joy of friends, see them standing about you. Ms. Davis here, separated from her parents since an early age, wishes for their love and approval. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

The Headmaster sighed regrettably. "The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, and I must ask that neither of you go looking for it. If you ever do run across it you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that," he instructed them both though he peered directly at Tracey when he said it.

"Now, I believe it is well past the time when students should be within their houses," Dumbledore said as he pulled a slip of paper from the sleeve of his robe. "Take this with you. It should get you past anyone who might detain you for being where you shouldn't be as well as when you shouldn't be."

"Sir…Professor Dumbledore, can I ask you something," Harry queried.

"You just did, Harry," Tracey quipped, followed by a humorous snort at the confused look he gave her.

"Quite right, Ms. Davis," Dumbledore agreed with a chuckle of his own, "However you may ask me one more thing."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror," Harry asked with an embarrassed expression.

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks," the aged wizard replied with. "One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Christmas is mere days away, alas I will no doubt get more books. People for some reason feel that I do not have enough of them apparently. I've been collecting them for well over a hundred years. Would that I had as many pairs of socks," he told them with a merry twinkle to his eyes before seeing them out the door.

"You've changed," Tracey told Harry as they walked along the corridor, her arm wrapped around his as he escorted her back to the Slytherin common room.

"Really?" Harry asked, not thinking he was any different than he had been all along. The young witch on his arm nodded. "For better or worse?" he hesitantly asked, fearful of the answer.

"Definitely," Tracey replied with a grin and in the same cryptic tone women the world over use when they don't want the men around them, or young boys as the case may be, to understand what they are thinking.


	19. The Philosopher's Stone

**Chapter 19 – The Philosopher's Stone  
. . .**

The Outsiders left the Dungeon in a group. It had been a long and particularly grueling day for the lot of them. Fridays were a full day of potions with the Gryffindors. Professor Snape had lost little time in zeroing in on the Longbottom boy. True to form the young Gryff, hypersensitive to the Potions Master's presence hovering over his shoulder, managed to melt his cauldron fifteen minutes into the first class. Thankfully there were spare cauldrons in the class room as Professor Snape was well accustomed to such accidents happening with the Longbottom scion.

Hermione was the first to speak as they reached the main floor of the castle. "Poor Neville. I know he is trying his hardest and all but I fear he might not get a passing mark if this continues."

"If that is Longbottom's best then he'll certainly get a troll," Blaise scoffed with a grin. The three witches hastily looked towards Harry, a slight tightening around the edges of the boy's eyes was the only indication that he was recalling the troll from earlier that year. "Professor Snape might run out of cauldrons before the year is out at this rate."

"He really doesn't like you Gryff's does he?" Tracey asked, directing her question toward Hermione.

"He seems to like to take points from us well enough," Hermione replied, more than a bit miffed about the fact. "I think he badgers Neville simply because he is an easy target and it gives him a reason to deduct further points from our House when things go pear shaped."

"It's not fair," Harry grumbled. Having been the recipient of mistreatment nearly his entire life he knew bullying when he saw it. He was all too familiar with how it felt to be looked down upon and told you were worthless. "Longbottom didn't _do_ anything wrong!" Harry added as he stormed past the entrance to the great hall and continued on towards the doors of the castle. The fact that it was Harry's own Head of House that was doing the bullying only made the matter worse in his eyes.

"Life isn't always fair, Harry," Daphne offered, her words sounding lame even to her own ears. _If it was you would never have had to go through the life that you have_ , she thought to herself. "Where are we going?" she asked as Harry hastened past the entrance to the great hall, the rest following his lead.

"Sorry," Harry replied a bit sheepishly, only then realizing that the others may have wanted to go to the library or even the Slytherin common room. _Doubtful Hermione would want to go there…or be well received if she did._ "I need a bit of fresh air," he explained. "I just don't understand why Professor Snape has it out for Longbottom," he added rhetorically.

Stepping through the entrance doors to the castle the small group was instantly surrounded by the frigid temperatures and cold winds of Scotland in late December. Overhead the sky was filled with dark grey clouds, while they were massive in nature; they threatened an equally massive storm. There was some concern that if it snowed heavily this evening that the Hogwarts Express may have some difficulties making it back to London the next day. If was for this reason that several of the professors would be aboard the train when it left tomorrow morning.

Harry took a deep breath, the cold air both biting as well as invigorating him at the same time. All five students paused and enjoyed the quietness of the winter air. In the distance was the Forbidden forest, looking even more frightening now that the leaves had fallen from most the tree branches. The cold air blowing through the forest caused the bare tree limbs to rub together. Harry imagined that it sounded much like the hands of a skeleton would, were they rubbed together in such a fashion.

Black Lake was edged in ice. Nothing substantial, but enough to show that during the night the temperature dropped well below freezing. Looking at the lake Harry once more wondered about his friend Rin and hoped that she was doing well. There was a quiet calmness to the Highlands of Scotland during the winter months. To Harry it felt as if the entire world was holding its breath just waiting for spring. "You lot all packed up then?" he finally asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I'm not," Tracey declared, only to receive a contemptuous glare from Daphne. "What? I'll have plenty of time to pack in the morning," she added, directing the defensive words towards her best friend. "The train doesn't leave till 10 o'clock so there will be plenty of time."

"That doesn't mean you have to wait till the last second," Daphne responded in a snarky tone. "You're always rushing about and asking for my help just minutes before we have to leave. It is the same anytime we have to go someplace, Tracey," the witch said, a bit exasperated by the top of conversation.

Blaise chuckled before adding his two knuts, "I'm with Tracey on this one. Plenty of time to pack in the morning," he stated only to earn himself a harsh glare from the blonde Slytherin witch.

All heads turned and suddenly looked towards Hermione as she had as yet said anything. "Don't look at me," Hermione declared loudly upon seeing their questioning looks. "I had everything packed since yesterday."

"Finally! Someone who understands!" Daphne stated as she stepped over and slipped her arm through Hermione's as if to show a unified front in the face of the other two's decision to put off packing till the last moment.

"What about you, mate?" Blaise quipped towards Harry. "I bet you're waiting till tomorrow morning as well."

Harry turned back and looked over the grounds of Hogwarts and the lake with the forest in the distance. "Actually, I'm staying here," he finally told them. He had sent a letter to his relatives but like the previous one it had come back unopened. Truthfully he would rather remain at school than return to the Dursleys. Harry had felt ashamed that he wasn't wanted and so had not mentioned that he was in fact not going home for the holidays.

All three witches gasped at his confession. "Harry, that's terrible!" Hermione exclaimed.

"You should have said something, mate," Blaise stated. "I'm sure I could have asked me mum for you to come and stay with us."

"I'm sure anyone of us would have been more than happy to have you with us for the holidays," Daphne told her friend sincerely. _They probably didn't even want him_ , she seethed inside thinking of Harry's Muggle relatives.

"What are you going to do, Harry?" Tracey enquired, stepping closer to him and taking his hand in hers.

Harry turned at her touch and offered his friends a smile. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. Professor Snape informed me that I'm actually the only member of our House that isn't returning home for the holidays," he told them. The other Outsiders looked on in concern, suddenly learning that their friend would be all alone. "Hey, for two weeks I'll have the entire Slytherin House to myself!" he added with a bit of forced levity for their sake.

"But, Harry-" Hermione started to say only to be cut off from the young wizard.

"I'll be fine. Honestly," Harry assured her and the others. Further discussion was cut off as they were all suddenly surrounds by large white flakes of snow that were falling from the sky.

"It's snowing!" Tracey declared excitedly. The young witch loved it when it snowed, finding it to be very pretty.

"Can't get anything past you, Davis!" Blaise quipped good naturedly with a grin on his face. To which Tracey stuck her tongue out at him, causing all of them to laugh.

"When I was a little girl," Hermione said in a wistful tone as she help out a hand, allowing one of the large flakes to settle into it, "My mum said that when it snowed, an angel was crying. One tear for each person's sorrow. As the teardrops fell to earth they froze making a snowflake. That's why no two snowflakes are the same as no two person's sorrow are exactly the same."

"There must be a lot of sad people in the world for there to be this many snowflakes," Blaise said as he looked around at all the falling snow.

"I imagine that everyone carries a bit of sorrow inside them," Daphne offered as her worried eyes regarded Harry intently.

"So these are frozen tears?" Tracey asked before licking a snowflake from her palm. "They don't taste salty." Hermione simply shrugged to indicate it was just a story her mum had told to her when she was younger.

Harry stood there staring at the falling flakes with wide eyes. Once again he heard Rin's words within his mind, ' _The Frozen Tears will come soon so I will not be able to get away. Look for me when the seasons once again change_ '. The Mergirl's words finally made sense. _She meant she wouldn't be able to return till after winter!_ "I wonder what the Merfolk do during winter?" he ponder aloud without realizing it.

All of them turned and regarded the lake in the distance though it was Daphne that first spoke. "I don't know but I doubt that the cold bothers them. They live at the bottom of the lake where it is always cold," she explained.

"Yes, but if it is cold there it could become colder…perhaps even frostier during the winter," Hermione offered, jumping in on what she saw as an intellectual discussion. "I read that some non-magical researches have stated that if you go deep enough the water temperature changes very little regardless of what the weather may be like above the water."

"Speaking of cold, I can't feel my toes!" Tracey whined, causing the others to chuckle. "How about we go to the great hall and see about some cocoa?" Everyone readily agreed as they were all sporting red noses and ear tips by then.

The others stepped back into the castle except for Harry who remained outside. "It really is beautiful," he said softly as he watched the silent snow fall and begin to blanket the grounds. Turning back towards the castle and his waiting friends he was looking forward to the two weeks of peace and quiet that the holidays were sure to bring.

**-oOo-**

Harry made certain to be up and ready in the morning. While he himself wasn't leaving the castle, he at least wanted to be there to see his other friends off. The young wizard was the first from his group to arrive at the great hall and take his normal seat towards the far end of the Slytherin table. He had learned that it was safer to be the first up in the morning as well as the last to sleep at night where his house mates were concerned.

Hermione was the first one from their group, after Harry, to make it to the great hall for breakfast. Harry watched her enter and look about. The young witch's face split into a big grin as soon as her eyes fell on him. _I could get very use to that_ , he thought to himself. He knew it wasn't really any different from any other morning, not really. Hermione always gave him a smile when she joined him at the table. All the girls did for that matter. It was just really nice to actually be on the receiving end of a genuine smile. With a pain of regret the young boy realized this would be the last time he saw her smile till after the holidays.

"Good Morning, Hermione," Harry offered with a welcoming smile as the young witch tucked in next to him. "Ready to go?"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione replied with a grin, "I've been ready for days, though I will admit it was a rather difficult decision on just which books to take with me as they wouldn't all fit in my trunk apparently." The young first-year began to fill her plate as she continued to chatter. "I was forced to leave some clothes here to make room for them all. Maybe I can talk dad into buying me a larger trunk?"

Harry couldn't help but grin as he listened to Hermione. _Leave it to her to take clothes out so that she has more room for books!_ "I heard they have these trunks for sale in Diagon Alley that are larger on the inside than they appear on the outside," Harry offered as he started to load his plate with the amount of food Madam Pomfrey had instructed him to consume.

Hermione stopped in the middle of placing bacon on her plate and turned and gapped at the boy. "That's brilliant! I wonder how they do that?" she asked aloud as she finished dropping the bacon on her plate.

"I'm no expert but if I had to hazard a guess I would say magic," the young wizard deadpanned back.

"You prat!" Hermione exclaim, swatting his shoulder playfully but with a grin on her face. "I know they use magic! I meant which spell they were using," she clarified.

"There is more than one spell to do that?" Harry enquired.

"Three actually," Hermione answered.

"Why?" Harry asked in a surprised tone.

"It depends on what the purpose of the trunk, in this case, is for I guess," Hermione told him, dropping into lecture mode. "There is one spell that simply enlarges the interior of the trunk. Another doesn't actually increase the size of the trunk space but rather shrinks the items as you place them in it which allows you to store more items. Lastly there is a spell that is reported to make a pocket in some other dimension. Anything placed in the trunk is actually stored there rather than in the trunk itself."

"Seems rather silly to have three spells that all do essentially the same thing," Harry commented on before taking a bite of his eggs.

Hermione shrugged as she took a sip of her juice before answering. "Think of it this way, Harry. There are many different luggage makers in the world. They are essentially all making the same thing but each is different in a way that is specific to the manufacturer. Different witches and wizard make different spells to do essentially the same thing but with a slight difference. The concept is really not that different," she concluded with before biting into her toast.

"Mornin, mate. Granger," Blaise said as he tucked in across the table from the two already seated.

"Daphne and Tracey?" Hermione asked with an arched brow once she saw the wizard was alone.

Blaise started to fill his plate. "I suspect they will be a bit late, if Daphne's yells from the girl's dormitory are any indication," he answered her. "I got the impression that it was really Tracey that was running late though," the Slytherin added with a grin.

True to what Blaise had said, the missing two witches arrived fifteen minutes later. Harry could clearly see the contemptuous glare on Daphne's face as well as the apologetic one on Tracey's. Harry waited till both had tucked in, Daphne next to him and Tracey next to Blaise, and had begun to eat before he said anything. "Anyone have anything special planned for the hols?"

"Same as last year," Blaise answered first. "Mum always throws a Yule celebration for family and friends. Probably because she knows she will be out for New Year's Eve."

"I'll be at Daphne's," Tracey offered as she set her filled plate before her and reached for a pitcher of juice.

"Assuming she gets everything packed and brought over before the hols are over with," Daphne mumbled loud enough for all of them to hear.

"Her folks always have a small get together for Yule and then a big party for the new Year," Tracey continued with as if the blonde witch hadn't said anything.

"My mum believes that Yule should be spent with family," Daphne jumped in to explain. "We've always kept it rather small with just immediate family. Father insists on having his friends and business associates over for New Year's every year. The usual eat too much, drink too much, set off fireworks at midnight and hope nothing catches fire," the girl stated with a dismissive wave of her hand as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Harry smiled at the image her words called to mind. "I would love to see fireworks sometime," he said before he knew it. Being with the Dursley's he had never been allowed to attend any type of party unless it was Dudley's birthday party. Even then it was mostly so he would do the cooking for everyone. Freaks were apparently not allowed to celebrate like normal people were.

The three witches exchanged looks, finding it hard to believe what Harry had just said. "You've never seen fireworks, Harry?" Hermione finally asked in a disbelieving tone of voice.

"Not yet, though I hope to one day," Harry answered as he corralled the last of the eggs on his plate onto his fork and thus by missed the saddened looks that appeared on faces of his friends. "What about you, Hermione?" he asked just before placing the egg filled fork in his mouth.

Hermione quickly schooled her expression even though it pained her to think that her best friend had never experienced fireworks. "Christmas Eve it is just mum, dad and me," she answered him with. "We each get to open one present before we go to bed. On Christmas Day we all go over to Gran's house and all the family comes over. It's rather a mad house actually," she added with a warm smile at the thought of it.

"That sounds brilliant!" Harry exclaimed with a big smile and bright eyes. _When I have a family I want to do all of those_ , he told himself as he thought about what his friends were going to do for the holidays. The young wizard hadn't once been a part of the Dursley's Christmas. Every year they went to Marge's, Vernon's sister's house, leaving him at Privet Drive.

The Outsiders finished eating and just sat and chatted for a while. Most of the students remained in the great hall. At ten o'clock Hagrid entered the great hall and announced that the carriages were outside to take them to the train station in Hogsmeade. Harry walked his friends out but came to an abrupt stop when he saw what was pulling the carriages. "What are those?" he asked in wonder as his eyes traversed the strange creature's body.

"What's what?" Daphne asked as she and the others looked towards where Harry was staring.

"It's just the carriages that will take us to Hogsmeade, mate," Blaise offered. "We didn't get to see them when we first got here in September because we came across the lake on boats," he reminded his friend.

"No, not the carriages. What is that pulling them?" Harry asked, still a bit distracted. The creatures were a sort of winged horse from what he could tell except they looked rather skeletal in nature. Their bones seemed to protrude from their skin and their heads looked more dragonish than like that of a horse. Unlike other winged horses, their wings were made from membrane instead of feathers. The closest creature's black eyes appeared to be regarding him intently as it seemed to realize that Harry could see it and found that fact rather peculiar.

"Harry, there's nothing pulling them," Tracey offered as she looked to the others to make certain they didn't see anything as well.

Harry ignored her words and instead approached the nearest one, holding out his hand to it. The creature stretched forth its neck and gave the offered hand a sniff before rubbing against it. Harry stepped closer and gently began to run his fingertips along the creatures jaw line, scratching it as he did so.

"Blimey, Harry! You can see 'em," the booming voice of Hagrid suddenly exclaimed from behind the small group.

"You mean there is actually something there?" Hermione enquired in a disbelieving tone of voice.

"Of course there is," Hagrid replied. "Did you think though ruddy carriages moved by themselves?"

"This is a magical school after all," Tracey quipped quickly.

Hagrid looked thoughtful for a moment then gave a nod of agreement before he continued. "They're Thestrals, they are," the half-giant announced.

"Why can't we see them?" Daphne asked as she slowly stepped up next to Harry and reached out her hand. The young wizard grasped her wrist and guided it toward the invisible animal. The blonde-witch gasped when she suddenly felt something wet lick her fingers. "Eww," she said softly when she realized what had happened. Beside her, Harry grinned at his friend's discomfort.

"Well, on account of only those that 'ave seen death can see 'em," the grounds keeper explained to them.

"Then why can Harry see them?" Blaise enquired as he watched Tracey step up and reach out only to start petting whatever it was they couldn't see.

Hagrid had to think for a long moment before he could answer the boy's question. "I'm not rightly sure," he finally admitted. "Maybe 'cause he saw his mum and You-Know-Who die when he was a little tike and all?" Hagrid said only to trail off as it was such a sad thing, one that he really didn't like to even think about it. Lily Potter had been a good friend to him when many others hadn't been. Hagrid couldn't have been happier when Lily had married James Potter. The love the two shared was so evident to anyone with half a brain to see. Their deaths had left the giant crying for weeks. "Ought not ta `ave said that," he mumbled.

"What do they look like, Harry?" Hermione asked to distract the wizard from what Hagrid had said.

Harry, who hadn't really heard anything other than what the name of the amazing creatures were, answered his friend after a long moment. "They're kind of like winged horses with dragonish heads, though their skin is rather leathery. Hagrid, are they supposed to look like they're half starved?" the boy asked turning his head to look at his large friend.

"That's their normal look, Harry. Most folks think they look rather sinister or spooky," Hagrid explained. "Given their appearance and the fact about just who can see them and all, folks 'ave come to think of 'em as the messengers of Death and all. Vastly misunderstood creatures, they are!" the half-giant added with a shake of his head.

"I think they're amazing!" Harry declared, turning back to continue to scratch the Thestral's jaw. The animal's eyes drooped closed in apparent pleasure.

It wasn't long before the others had to climb aboard a carriage to make their way to Hogsmeade. Harry, standing on the steps to the castle waved as the Thestral pulled carriage disappeared down the road. Hagrid walked beside them as it was his responsibility to make certain all the students were safely aboard the Hogwarts Express. With a sad sigh the young wizard turned about and entered the castle once they were all out of sight.

**-oOo-**

The remainder of the day passed rather uneventful for Harry. He returned to the great hall for lunch and then again in the evening for supper. The young wizard had busied himself during the afternoon with investigating the Slytherin common room, a luxury few had with so many students in it. There were surprisingly well stocked book shelves covering just about any subject currently taught at Hogwarts as well as a few that weren't. He wondered if all the other House common rooms had them as well.

Just prior to the evening meal Harry's Head of House, Professor Snape, stopped in to check on him. The young wizard was seated on the couch before the fire reading his potions book. "Mr. Potter, I see you are putting your free time to good use," the Potions Master said approvingly upon finding him. "Clearly Greengrass and Davis have been a good influence on you."

"What about Hermione?" Harry asked, setting the book down in his lap to look at his Head of House.

"The Gryffindor know it all?" Severus asked with a slightly arched brow.

Harry gave a quick nod. "She's just as bright as Daphne or Tracey," he stated in Hermione's defense.

"She very well may be, however she is not Slytherin," Snape drawled.

"You really don't like Gryffindors I guess," Harry stated in a mild tone trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"They are our rivals, Potter. If we are to keep the House Cup we must beat them as well as the other houses," Severus explained to the young wizard. "If we became friends with all of them we would be less inclined to beat them."

"I understand that, Sir," Harry replied in a thoughtful tone of voice. "I just can't hate them or their house though. My father was a Gryffindor after all as was my mum."

The vision of Lily Evans momentarily appeared before Severus' eyes as he recalled his childhood friend who was also the woman he loved. "Your mother was perhaps an exception to the rule. She was a very capable witch."

"Did you know her well, Sir?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

Severus gazed at the boy for a long moment but only saw curiosity in Harry's eyes. "I did. I was fortunate enough to call her a friend," Severus finally replied with.

"Can you tell me about her?" Harry asked with a hopeful look. No one besides Hagrid had really ever told him much of anything about his parents. He had of course read about them in the library, however that was nothing compared to someone that had actually known them. "My father too," Harry added only to see the teachers expression darken.

"I…did not know your father as well. That which I do know of him you would most likely not enjoy hearing," Severus finally replied. "I'll tell you about your mother at another time. Off to dinner with you!" Snape snapped a bit more harshly than he had intended. _Even after all these years it still hurts_ , he realized as he thought of the red-headed witch that was Harry's mother.

"Yes, Sir!" Harry exclaimed as he closed the book and jumped to his feet. The young wizard tucked the book under one arm and headed for the door only to pause upon reaching it. "Aren't you coming, Sir?" Harry enquired of his Head of House.

"I'll be along shortly," Severus answered while making a shooing gesture. The first-year student nodded once before slipping out of the room. Sevres dropped heavily onto the couch and massaged the bridge of his nose. "What am I going to do, Lily?" he asked aloud of the empty room. "How can I keep him safe? Why does he have to look like your insufferable husband? I truly wish you were here, Lily," he said with a sad sigh before rising to his feet and following after Harry.

**-oOo-**

Harry soon discovered that being the only member of his house at Hogwarts was rather boring. After sitting in every single seat in the common room there really wasn't much else to do. By Sunday afternoon the young wizard gathered his assignments and made his way to the library. The next several days were spent doing his school work, a fact he was certain his friends would be impressed with.

"I'm not doing it because I know that they'll be proud of me," Harry told himself, thinking of the three witches that were currently missing from the library table he was seated at. He knew that Blaise would probably think he was mental for doing the work this early in the holiday break. "I'm doing it because I'm so incredibly bored!" he whined aloud to no one as there was no one there to hear him.

Harry, having been mostly alone, even when he was with the Dursleys, for the majority of his life didn't really know what it was like to be lonely. Being by himself was just _normal_. He had never had friends or anyone that wanted anything to do with him till he had arrived at Hogwarts and met Tracey, Daphne and Hermione. Several times over the last two days he had found himself wanting to tell someone about a fact he had read only to look up and realize that there was no one there but himself. Somehow, being alone was no longer normal for the young wizard.

Wednesday morning dawned bright and sunny. At some point during the night it had snowed and the grounds outside were covered in several inches of the white powdery stuff. Harry awoke after a sound night's sleep. _Funny how easy that is to get when there is no one here to prank my bed_ , he idly thought as he lay in bed. Harry stretched lazily and only then discovered that there was an odd package at the foot of his bed.

The young wizard sat up and regarded the item in its odd wrapping paper. "Where did you come from?" he pondered aloud for a moment before reaching out and pulling the item into his lap. _It must be for someone else_ , he reasoned as he had never gotten a present in his entire life. _Present! That's it_ , he thought, suddenly realizing that it was Christmas day today. The boy grinned as it was the first Christmas day in his life where he wouldn't have to cook for himself or spend it home alone.

Harry saw a note had been affixed to the ribbon around the oddly wrapped package. "This should tell me who this is for," he told himself. "I'll just take a look and then move it to their bed where it belongs." Pulling the note from the present he looked at it and his eyes grew larger as he read the words on it.

_Harry,_  
This belonged to your father, who left it in my care.  
I believe it is time it was returned to its rightful owner.

Harry flipped the card over, wondering who it was from, but saw that there was no signature on the back side of the card either. With a dismissive shrug the boy tore apart the wrapping and pulled out a rather large piece of cloth. It took him a moment to realize that the item in question was actually a cloak. Slipping from his bed he put the cloak on and then walked into the loo to have a look in the mirror. Seeing his disembodied head floating in mid-air was nearly enough to make him faint.

"Merlin's Beard! What the bloody hell," he exclaimed, hastily pulling the cloak off again, half expecting the rest of his body to be missing. The young man blew a sigh of relief when the missing portion of his anatomy appeared from beneath the cloak. Quickly he once again draped it over himself, this time including his head. "That's brilliant!" he exclaimed excitedly as he looked in the mirror and could no longer see himself.

The thrilled wizard quickly made his way to the great hall, slipping the cloak on just prior to entering it. There were a handful of students from every house, except for his own. It appeared that the entire Weasley family had remained at Hogwarts for the holidays. The brothers all sat together, each wearing a matching sweater of a different color. Harry quickly found that sitting out of the way under his cloak and watching others eat was not all that much fun. Truthfully it was no different than what normally happened on a regular basis with the boy. Slipping from the room he removed his cloak, storing it in a large pocket in his robes before returning to the hall to eat his own meal.

Later that morning there was an impromptu snowball fight outside started by the Weasley twins which involved just about all of the students as well as a few staff members. Harry, standing in the castle doorway, watched and laughed as people were pummeled by the white balls of frozen water. The battle soon deteriorated into the students against the staff members. Professor Flitwick conjured several large snowmen and then charmed them so that they attacked the students relentlessly, eventually giving the victory to the staff.

After everyone had retired to the castle for some much needed cocoa and a hardy lunch the diminutive professor lead the students down to Black Lake. As they watched, the charm's professor dipped his wand into the partially frozen water. The water instantly turned to solid ice and began to spread outwards rapidly. In the matter of just a few minutes there was a good size ice skating area complete with a frozen wall around its edge to keep people from falling in the lake. Harry discovered two things that afternoon. Firstly, he was absolutely pants at ice skating. Secondly, that falling down on your backside repeatedly on the ice hurts…a lot. It was a very tired and sore wizard that retired to his bed after the evening meal.

**-oOo-**

Harry awoke sometime in the middle of the night from a nightmare with a gasp as he lunged to a sitting position in his bed with one hand flying to his brow. The scar on his head was hurting something terrible and was warm to the touch. The young wizard couldn't recall what the dream had been about but the feeling of dread it carried persisted even now when he was awake. He tried to go back to sleep but the feeling that something was off only seemed to increase as he tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position.

Realizing that he probably wasn't going to be able to fall back to sleep anytime soon, Harry threw off the covers and got up only to realize that it was exceptionally cold in the dorm room. Hastily he dressed before making his way out to the common room in the hopes that perhaps some reading would help settle him down. Finding a place before the fire, which had sprung to life as soon as he had entered the room, Harry cracked open the cover to _Hogwarts: A History_ , one of Hermione's personal favorites, and started to read.

The sense of unease continued to grow making the young wizard antsy. With a sigh of frustration Harry closed the book and set it aside on the couch before he got to his feet, unable to sit still any longer. The common room was dark. Shadows played across the walls and ceiling as the flames in the fireplace flickered through their dance. Harry eyed the shadows wearily, feeling as if he was being watched. Unable to take it anymore the boy returned to his room, grabbed his cloak and hastily left the Dungeons.

Wearing his newly acquired invisibility cloak, for that is what he guessed it to be, the restless wizard traversed the halls of the quiet castle. Given that it was the holidays and the majority of students were away from the school, there were no prefects or professors patrolling the corridors it seemed. Harry wandered the castle with no real destination in mind as he tried to understand the strange feeling he had as well as why his scar was suddenly hurting him so badly. He soon found himself stepping off the stairs and onto the landing of the third floor.

_It was right here_ , Harry thought to himself as he turned and regarded the stairs he had just left. _It has been nearly two month since I killed it and yet I can recall it just as if it was yesterday. I can still see its face just before its head disappeared._ It was in fact the very place where Harry had killed the troll on All Hollow's Eve. The young wizard still felt remorse as well as guilt for what happened that evening. He was glad that none of his friends had been injured but he couldn't help but think that the troll's life had been a heavy price to pay for their safety.

Harry was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of distant music. Turning his heard, Harry listened for a long moment before following the sound down the right hand corridor. The musical notes soon led him to a door that was standing slightly ajar. Looking in the boy couldn't believe his eyes for there, next to the large harp he had seen Professor Sinistra playing, was a slumbering three headed dog just as Hermione had said.

Harry's sense of dread grew as he noticed that the trapdoor in the floor was open. The young boy slipped into the room and as quietly as possible approached the open trapdoor before peering in. Seeing nothing but darkness he glanced nervously towards the snoring beast before pointing his wand into the hatchway and saying " _Lumos_!" The spell did very little to penetrate the darkness below. Taking a firmer grip on his wand Harry decided to try something different. " _Lumos Solem_!" he intoned.

A narrow bright beam of light shot forth from the tip of his wand piercing the darkness below and revealing a wealth of vines that were all tangled together. As the beam struck the vines they withered and drew away from it as if in pain or burnt. Before long there was a rather wide opening revealing a stone floor just below the vines. Swallowing heavily and gathering what courage he had, the young Slytherin dropped through the hatch and fell through the hole down onto the stone floor, landing rather awkwardly and ending up in a sprawling heap.

"I must be bloody mental," he told himself as he stood up, brushed himself off, and made certain nothing was broken. It was at that moment that he realized that someone was truly after the stone and that he should have gone and gotten a Professor to handle the matter instead of jumping feet first, as it were, into the mess himself. "Little late now," he said aloud, looking upwards through the hole which the vines that were rapidly closing once again now that the beam of light was gone.

Realizing that there was no way to go back, Harry turned and started to follow the corridor. It was fairly simple as there were no other doorways and the path was well lite, which he found to be rather strange. _Why light the place up if it is meant to keep people out_ , he couldn't help but wonder. The boy stopped in the doorway to a rather large chamber with a very high ceiling and several tall pillars. Spread upon the floor of the room was hundreds of keys, each with their own set of shimmering wings. The keys lay there, twitching every so often as if they had been stunned or knocked unconscious.

Spying a partially opened door across the chamber, Harry pulled his cloak tightly around him and made his way across the room, trying not to step on any of the keys that lay upon the floor as he did so. As he approached the door he could see that there was a rather large key with a bent wing wedged into the lock of the door. Being careful not to disturb it, Harry slipped through the opening and started down the passageway. He had only gone a few steps when the door behind him closed and the sound of the lock clicking into place seemed to echo down the hallway. _No going back for sure now_ , he realized.

With a great deal of trepidation Harry carefully made his way down the corridor making as little noise as he possibly could. Upon reaching the opened archway at its end the young boy stopped and stared, unable to believe his eyes. Before him, spanning nearly the entire width of the room was the largest chessboard he had ever seen. It took a moment before Harry realized that standing on the board in the place of the king side bishop was a tall cloaked figure. As soon as the boy's eyes fell upon the person the burning in his scar flared painfully. Harry only just managed to cover his mouth to keep himself from gasping aloud due to it hurting so much.

The cloaked figure was in the middle of casting some charm or other, judging by the complex wand movements it was making. Harry hid in the shadows of the archway and watched as the figure seemed to try several different things, all to no avail. It wasn't difficult to tell that the person was growing rather frustrated at not being able to do what it wanted to. Long minutes passed where the person just stood there deep in thought before they once again moved.

The wand in the person's hand flew through several complicated patterns that were almost too fast for Harry to follow before it made several harsh slashing motions. Suddenly, before the boy's astonished eyes, all the chess pieces began to float up into the air. They hovered there several feet above their places on the board before they all flew towards the center of the board and exploded on impact with one another.

Harry flinched from the load noise caused by the collision of pieces, and hastily covered his ears under the cloak. When he looked up again he saw that nothing remained of the chess figures but broken shards piled in the center of the board and scattered across its surface. The cloaked figure made its way around the remains and proceeded through the archway on the other side of the board. Harry, after a tense moment of indecisiveness, slipped out of his hiding spot and crossed the room. The first-year wizard skirted the entire chessboard itself as he made his way along the side of it instead. As he was about to enter the archway the mysterious stranger had gone through he heard several noises behind him. Turning to look back he saw that the chess figures were starting to reassemble themselves. _I love magic_ , he couldn't help but think as he hastened after the person he was following.

The short passageway lead into another room that reeked of a stench he recalled all too well. _Troll_ , the young boy thought with a painful stab in his chest. _This must be where the troll that wandered into the school had been staying at_. Harry quickly crossed the room, trying not to dwell on what had happened to its former inhabitant. For the moment he counted himself fortunate that there wasn't another troll in the room to replace the previous one.

The adjacent corridor curved around slightly till suddenly the boy was halted by a wall of lavender flames the barred his path. Though the flames gave off no heat that Harry could feel he wasn't keen on trying to step through them. Through the flickering flames he could see that the figure was standing before a table with several containers upon it. As the hidden wizard watched he saw the person lift one of the containers and drink from it. The cloaked individual then walked out of his field of view and a few seconds later the flames vanished.

Harry peeked around the edge of the doorway and saw to his relief that the room was empty. Off to the side of the room there was another archway through which he assumed the person after the stone had gone. With a sigh of relief Harry entered the room only to have the same purplish flames spring to life behind him as well as before the archway he needed to go through. Left with little choice he hastened over to the small table and its many containers.

Harry regarded the various containers and it seemed that one of the bottle's contents was slightly lower than the others but as he looked again it appeared once more to be the same as the others. The young wizard couldn't say for certain if it had indeed been lower or if it had just appeared that way in the flickering light cast by the strange flames. Spotting a rolled piece of parchment lying on the table next to the bottles Harry picked it up and read it.

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.  
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;  
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  
Neither dwarf nor giant hold death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left, and the second on the right  
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Harry read the paper over once again. "This isn't magic," he realized with a start. "It's logic!" One thing he had learned rather quickly when coming to the Wizarding world was that magicals, for whatever reason, weren't very logical beings. He realized that any normal witch or wizard would have probably been stuck in the room forever. With a shrug Harry turned towards the bottles and puzzled his way through it once again before deciding that it was the small bottle that he needed to proceed through the flames at the end of the room. Throwing caution to the wind he grasped the bottle and drank down its contents before he could lose his nerve.

The young opened his eyes, having closed them to drink the foul tasting stuff, and hesitantly looked about. To his astonishment nothing had changed. Setting the small bottle down Harry walked over to the flames where he believed the other person had gone. "Maybe the potion protects me from the flames," he pondered aloud. On the off chance he was wrong the boy removed his cloak and tucked it back into the large pocket in his robes. _I would hate for that to get burned_ , he reasoned.

Gathering his courage once again Harry took a running start and leapt through the flames only to land on the other side of them unscathed. "Well that was a great deal easier than I thought it would be," he admitted.

" _Incarcerous!_ " Thin cords suddenly appeared and wrapped themselves around the boy, binding him securely. Unable to stand properly, Harry toppled over, landing on the floor with a muffle ' _umph_ ' as a gag had appeared in his mouth as well. "Did you really think that I couldn't sense someone following me, Potter?" Professor Quirrell enquired, stepping into the frightened boy's field of view.

"Since you are so persistent I shall take you along so that you may watch as I take the stone out from under Dumbledore's nose without him being any the wiser!" Quirinus told the bound boy with a chuckle. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher waved his wand, " _Mobilicorpus_ ," he said and Harry felt his body rise from the floor and float suspended in midair.

The Professor made his way down the passageway with Harry's floating body behind him. In short order they entered the room at the end of the corridor. "Well what have we here?" Quirrell asked curiously. Harry felt himself lowered to the ground. Once there he strained his neck to have a look past the professor only to see a very familiar mirror.

Quirrell stepped down several stairs into the room, Harry all but forgotten behind him, as he approached the mirror and regarded his image in it. "I see it! I see the stone," the professor suddenly exclaimed. "Now how do I get it?" he asked himself thoughtfully. The man raised his wand and tried several summoning and fetching charms all to no avail. Several more minute passed with several other charms and jinxes rendering the same results and only frustrating the intelligent wizard further.

"Use the boy," a raspy voice was suddenly heard to say in the room. As soon as Harry heard the voice, which seemed to emanate from everywhere at once, his scar throbbed and burned painfully. It was the same pain which had awoken him from his dream as well as when he had first spied the cloaked figure on the chessboard.

"Come here, Potter!" Quirrell called, dismissing the boy's bindings with a wave of his wand. Harry got shakily to his feet and slowly made his way down the stairs as instructed. "Stand there before the mirror and tell me what you see," the man ordered, pointing with his wand tip.

Harry stood before the mirror and saw the usual smoky surface for a moment and then suddenly he was looking at himself. Harry's eyes grew larger as his reflection reached into its pocket and withdrew a reddish stone and held it up for him to see. Realizing instantly just what it was Harry turned away from the mirror and took a step to the side so that he wasn't directly in front of it any longer.

"Well?" Quirrell snapped, "What did you see?"

"I…I saw myself, Sir," Harry stammered. "I was seated in the library reading _Hogwarts: A History_ ," he lied in what he hoped was a convincing manner. The book had been the first thing to come to mind as he had just been reading it in the Slytherin common room before ending up where he was currently.

Quirrell paced several steps away from the mirror, pausing at the other end of the room with his back to the boy. To Harry is sounded as though he was carrying on a conversation with himself. Harry was suitably scared and had been ever since that voice had spoken. "Let me speak to him," the voice, as if called forth by his thought of it, spoke once more.

"But Master you are not strong enough," Harry heard Quirrell reply pleadingly.

"I am strong enough for this you fool!" the voice snapped back angrily. Harry watched as the professor reached up and slowly began to unwind his turban. The young wizard looked on in horror as the last of the cloth fell away to reveal a frightening face in the back of the professor's head. The scar on Harry's head felt as if it would burst into flames it hurt so badly. The young wizard, fearing for his life, tried to hide in the only place that he could. Harry dashed behind the mirror, certain that he didn't want to see that face anymore. A low soft noise began to play within the young wizards ears as his pulse raced.

"Come here, boy!" the raspy voice ordered. "See what I, Lord Voldemort, have had to become since that night I visited your parent's house in Godric's Hallow. I have had to live as little more than a parasite, eking out an existence off of animals and others jut to remain alive!" Voldemort stated angrily.

Harry could feel himself panicking as he realized that he was facing the Dark Lord who had killed his parents when he was only a baby. Voldemort, the most feared evil wizard in hundreds of years was here in the very same room as he was. The soft low noise in the boy's ears quickly grew into a roaring sound that he knew all too well. Spurred on by his own fear, Harry's magic was once again threatening to break free of his control. For once the boy thought that it would be best not to fight it.

The wall not far from where Harry hide behind the mirror suddenly exploded sending stone shards flying as some spell hit it. "Get out here boy so that I might properly kill you," bellowed the raspy voice that belonged to Voldemort.

Harry flinched both from the voice as well as the stray shards of stone that cut into his exposed skin. _I have to prevent him from getting the stone_ , he told himself. _But how?_ he asked himself before it suddenly came to him. _The mirror! If I destroy the mirror he won't be able to get the stone!_ Harry got to his feet from where he had been crouching down, placing both hands against the back of the Mirror of Erised he pushed with all the strength his eleven year old body could muster.

"Come now, Harry," Voldemort's voice said in a calm, almost conversational tone which was far different from its previous angry one. "It isn't proper for a wizard to hide cowering like some filthy muggle. Step out and face your death like a man," the Dark Lord urged the boy. "Your father, for all his failings, knew how act as a real wizard. He faced me properly before I ended his life for being a blood-traitor. Even your precious mudblood mother, Lily, died like a proper witch trying to save you," Voldemort taunted the boy. "Did you know that she begged me to spare your life right up till the end? I'll never forget the look on her face when I killed her," he said smugly.

Harry pushed for all he was worth but it was no use. The mirror was far too heavy for him to move it. Anger flared within the small boy as he realized that he was helpless and there was nothing he could do. Voldemort's words finally registered with the young wizard and only served to fuel his anger. Rage exploded within Harry, the likes of which he had never known before. Anger at what had happened to his parents. Anger at his inability to even save himself after everything his mum and dad had sacrificed to ensure he remained alive. Anger at the Dark Wizard who, as Harry saw it, was the cause of all the bad things that had happened in his life.

"What are you doing?" Voldemort asked curiously as the entire Mirror of Erised began to glow brightly. As the Dark Lord watched in horror the glass surface of the mirror began to bulge and twist irregularly. "Stop him you fool!" Voldemort order Quirrell, "Quickly before he destroys the mirror and the stone along with it!"

Even as the possessed professor turned back about to face the mirror he saw the glass of its surface transmute and spill out upon the floor. No longer was it the reflective glass of the mirror but rather it had been reduced to small grains of sand which settled into a heap about the base of the mirror's feet. The frame of the large mirror flashed brightly suddenly and exploded into a million pieces, knocking Quirrell from his feet and sending him sailing across the room only to impact the distant wall.

Quirrell struggled to his feet, dazed and confused from the destruction of the mirror. Across the room he could see Harry still standing, unaffected by the explosion. "KILL THE BOY! KILL HIM NOW!" Voldemort's strained voice cried out in furious anger at having lost the stone.

Harry stood untouched by the blast as his magic, now freed of his control, had apparently protected him from harm or injury. Dully he looked up as the older wizard climbed to his feet and then advanced upon him under the directions of the Dark Lord in his head. Unconsciously, more a reflex than anything else, Harry's hands shot up to ward off the attack, grasping both of Quirrell's wrists in an effort to keep the man's hands from him.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor's head shot back as a scream of excruciating pain left his lips at the boy's touch. Harry watched in detached fascination as the man's hands turned to ash. The ashing effect began to work its way up the man's arms as the wizard continued to scream. Magic surged within the small boy and lashed out engulfing the professor much as it had the troll. A sudden burst of blue eldritch fire and the man's body exploded, cutting off his tortured screams. Harry fell over backwards, his rouge magic once more protecting him from any projectile body parts that would have harmed him. _Bet I get a detention and house points docked for breaking the mirror_ , was the boy's last thought before darkness claimed him.

**-oOo-**

Harry awoke to the smell of clean sheets and the feel of a lumpy mattress. _I'm becoming all too familiar with this place_ , he reflected silently as he realized he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Harry opened his eyes to see a blurry world. Reaching to the nightstand next to his bed he retrieved his glasses and slipped them on, amazed they weren't broken.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter," said a masculine voice he didn't recognize.

Harry's head hastily looked over to his left and saw an old wizard seated in a chair regarding him with a warm friendly smile. The man had thinning white hair, a large nose and full cheeks set below brown eyes that sparkled as if they were privy to some grand joke that others were not. A rather long white goatee sprouted from the wizard's chin and draped down the front of his modest robes. "I'm sorry, Sir, do I know you?" Harry asked, still a bit dazed and not yet fully awake.

The man grinned. "Not personally, lad," he replied. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Alchemist, Nicolas Flamel. I asked Albus to allow me to have a word with you when you awoke," the wizard explained.

In a rush the memories of what had happened with Professor Quirrell returned to Harry. The boy paled as he realized that he had probably destroyed the Philosopher's Stone along with the mirror. "S…Sir, I think I may owe you an apology," Harry started to say only to have his words waved away by the older wizard.

"Rubbish, my dear boy," Nicolas told him. "If anything it is I who owe you a bit of thanks."

"Thanks?" Harry asked, completely befuddled as to what thanks the man could possible owe him.

Nicolas just smiled as he played with his goatee absently. "Perenelle, my wife, has been after me for some time to destroy the stone. She believes that man was not meant to live as long as we have. She said that she's only stayed with me all this time to keep me out of trouble," the wizard admitted with a short bark of laughter. "I would be good and truly lost without her," he added with a soft and loving expression gracing his features as he thought of his wife.

The alchemist seemed to shake himself slightly, pulling his mind back to the topic at hand. "Yes, so thank you for doing what I could not, or would not, bring myself to do," he confessed. "When I first created the stone there was just so many mysteries to solve and things to see and do in life that I didn't want it to end. There were a great many other things I hadn't counted on though, such as watching everyone you know grow old and die. It is a painful thing to do to have to bury your children and then their children and their children's children. Never gets any easier," said the alchemist with a deep sigh.

"It wasn't before long that we sort of withdrew from the world and all those who knew us," Nicolas continued with. "Far easier that then to continue to watch your loved ones populate burial mounds. I suppose at some point it went from seeing the wonders of the world to just seeing how long I could live. Living forever isn't nearly all it's cracked up to be young man," Flamel told him in a serious tone.

"But what will you do now, Sir?" Harry asked. "Can't you just make another one?" Harry couldn't help but feel that is was his fault that the wizard and his wife would now die. If he had somehow managed to save the stone they could have continue on living just as they had for over six hundred years.

"Well actually," Nicolas started with, looking slightly embarrassed, "I was a bit in my cups when I created that one and I don't really recall how I did it. That will be our little secret though," he staged whispered to the bed bound boy. "Can't have the young ones thinking less of me now can I?" the old wizard asked with a hearty laugh.

"Well, I should probably let you get back to recovering. I'm sure the young lass who runs this place will be by in a tic to check on you. A bit of advice before I go, lad," the man offered. "Try and enjoy life while you can. Even living as long as I have life is far too short to do otherwise. Find a good woman to share it with as that makes it all the better. Well, perhaps wait a bit longer before you do that part," he added with a wink and a grin.

Harry looked at the foot of his bed for a long moment, his cheeks red as he thought over the wizard's words. "Thank you, Sir," he finally said, turning back to regard the alchemist only to see that he was by himself and the man was gone. Harry couldn't help but wonder for a moment if he had in fact imagined it all. His thoughts were broken by the arrival of the school's head nurse.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Poppy said as she bustled in, all business like. "Glad to see that you are with us once again." Harry had to suppress a grin as he realized that the _young lass_ Flamel had mentioned was the elder Mediwitch with him currently. "How are you feeling?" Poppy asked as she ran several scans over him with her wand.

"Tired. Sore. Hungry," Harry replied. "About normal for me," he added a bit cheekily before suddenly recalling the seriousness of all that had happened to him. Voldemort had very nearly succeeded in acquiring the stone and possibly returning to life. A man had died in the process, with the Flamels soon to follow after Professor Quirrell. "How long have I been here?" Harry asked, feeling like very little time at all had passed.

Poppy eyed the youthful boy who was quickly becoming one of her favorite students, even if he did spend far too much time under her care. "Five days," she finally admitted to him only to witness him blanch at her words. "You once again managed to wear yourself to exhaustion," she said in a disapproving tone of voice. "No sooner do we start to get your body's energy built up then you go and use it all!"

"Sorry, Ma`am," Harry replied a bit dazed by the news that he had been out for that long. "How did I get here?" he asked softly.

"Professor Dumbledore brought you here. You should rest a bit," Poppy directed him. "The Headmaster will be returning later today and I am certain he will wish to speak with you." The mediwitch watched as the young boy rolled over onto his side, closed his eyes and did as instructed after removing his glasses and setting them on the stand next to the bed. _Why is it always him_ , Poppy thought to herself rhetorically with a sad shake of her head.

Harry waited till several minutes had passed after he heard Madam Pomfrey leave before he opened his eyes with a snap. In the darkness behind his eyelids he once again saw the grotesque image of Voldemort's face protruding from the back of Professor Quirrell's head. In his mind's eye he watched as the teacher attacked him only to scream in pain as the very flesh where Harry touched turned to cinder and ash. Once more Harry watched as his own magic obliterated the man into nothing more than small pieces of the body Quirrell had once been.

"No two ways about it this time," Harry whispered to himself. "I killed him." _He wasn't some unknowing troll either who was bent on harming my friends._ The young boy lay there and could find no way to justify his own actions. _The Flamels will also now die because I couldn't control my magic and destroyed the stone_ , he realized as guilt set in for what he had done or failed to do. _If I had just went and fetched a professor when I found the door open, none of this would have happened._

Harry's thoughts turned towards his friends as they often did these days. "Little chance they'll forgive me this time," he whispered aloud, his words none the less painful for having uttered them. _Little chance I'll forgive myself_ , he admitted silently. _It really would have been better had I never come to Hogwarts_ , he thought to himself miserably.

It was several hours before he was brought from his dark thoughts by a soft clearing of a throat. Harry rolled over onto his back, after putting on his glasses, only to see the Headmaster standing at the foot of his bed. The venerable wizard didn't like the resigned expression upon the boy's face when he got a good look at him. _I have failed Lily and James yet again_ , Albus sadly realized.

"Madam Pomfrey assured me that you are well on the way to recovery," Albus opened with, a small smile appearing on his features. "How do you feel, Harry?" he enquired only to receive a slight shrug from the boy in the bed. The aged wizard came around the bed and took a seat in the chair that Nicolas Flamel had sat in not all the long ago.

"I will get right to the point. As you and Professor Quirrell were the only two in the room with the stone, you're the only one that knows what really occurred, Harry," Albus said. "Can you tell me what happened? I know it might be painful but it is terribly important that you spare no detail."

Harry regarded the Headmaster for several long moments as he wondered just how much the man knew already. The Headmaster had been the one to find him so he must know about the mirror as well as what remained of Professor Quirrell. The young boy finally sighed wearily, his eyes falling away from the wizard with him, too ashamed of his own actions. "It was Voldemort," Harry confessed in a soft voice. "He was somehow in Professor Quirrell's head."

"You mean Quirrell could hear Voldemort?" Albus asked for clarification. "Could you?" he quickly amended, fearful for the boy and what this new development could mean.

"Yes. No," Harry stammered a bit confused and out of sorts. "I mean that I could see Voldemort's face. It was sticking out of the back of Professor Quirrell's head when he removed his turban," the young wizard managed to finally get out in a tone that was clearly distressed over the horrific ordeal he had been through. "He wanted to use me to get to the stone!" Harry told him only to recall once again in vivid detail the events which had transpired in the room beneath the castle.

"I followed him down to where the mirror was," Harry retold his tale in a shallow tone, his eyes distant and filled with pain and remorse. "I foolishly thought that he didn't know I was there, but he did. He knew all along. He captured me just as easily as a child picks up an ant," Harry related in a disparaging tone of voice.

"As soon as I saw the mirror I knew, somehow, I knew what he was after. Standing there before it I saw myself holding the stone. I didn't want it! I truly didn't," Harry stated firmly. "I knew if I got it then he would take it from me. I mean I'm just a firstie, what could I do against a trained wizard? So I made up a lie when he asked me what I saw in the mirror."

Albus watched, listened and waited, not wishing to interrupt the boy now that Harry had finally started talking. It pained him to hear the fear and sorrow in Harry's voice, especially as he knew there was nothing he could do to alleviate them for the lad. It grieved him all the more as he knew that he had a hand in how the lad's life had turned out as well as that there would be more heartache and sorrow ahead of the young wizard before all was said and done.

"I tried to hide behind the mirror," Harry continued. "Voldemort tried to get me to come out. He even threw a curse at the wall near me and said some terrible things about my mum," the boy's angst filled voice relayed. "I…I'm not sure what happened but I think that my magic once again slipped my control, Sir. I…I think I destroyed your mirror, Sir," Harry stated as he looked up with large regret filled eyes.

Albus gazed deep into the emerald eyes before him, looking past the pain and the grief to the memories of the events that had taken place several days ago. The aged wizard watched in amazement as the school's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's hands and forearms turned to ash and fell away at the boy's touch. The magical attack that blasted the professor into tiny pieces was horrific enough to knock the Headmaster from the boy's mind.

"I didn't mean to do it," Harry said, assuming the shocked expression on the Headmaster's face was due to the news of the destruction of the ancient mirror. "Then Professor Quirrell, at Voldemort's direction, attacked me. I…I touched him," Harry admitted with a ragged sob, "and he just sort of dissolved, Sir. My magic, just like with the troll, destroyed him. I…I killed Professor Quirrell," Harry said with tears running down his face.

Albus, still shaken from what he had witness in Harry's memories, reached out and placed a consoling hand on the boy's shoulder, patting it gently in sympathy. "Do not borrow guilt where that is none, Harry. I fully suspect that Professor Quirrell was dead the moment he allowed Voldemort to possess him. It was a foregone conclusion of when, not if, his death would happen. I believe that he has also been the one killing the unicorns in the forest and drinking their blood. Unicorns are very pure magical creatures and their blood would be enough to sustain them both for a time. If anything you have afforded Professor Quirrell a far cleaner death than he would have received at the hands of his master."

"Sir?" Harry asked, wiping tears from his cheeks. The professor's words made a sort of sense to him though it did little to relieve the fact that he had killed the possessed man. "Why couldn't Professor Quirrell get the stone from the mirror? He could see it there."

"Ah yes, one of my more ingenious spells, if I do say some myself," Albus replied with a small chuckle. "Only a person who wished for the stone but didn't want to use it could actually obtain it."

"Sir?" said Harry. "I've been thinking. Even if the stone is gone, Voldemort -. Well. I mean Voldemort is still going to continue to try and find other ways to return. I mean he hasn't gone, has he?"

"No Harry, he has not. He is still out there someplace, perhaps looking for another body to share…not being truly alive he cannot be killed. I suspect his essence left Professor Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy for his followers as he does for his enemies," Albus told Harry.

"But why me, Sir?" Harry enquired. "Why is Voldemort set on killing me?"

Dumbledore sighed very deeply. "Alas, that is one thing I cannot tell you, Harry. Not today. Not now. You will know one day," the old wizard added seeing the boy about to object. "Put it from your mind for now, Harry. As much as I know you will hate to hear this, but when you are older…when you are ready, you will know."

Harry realized it would do no good to argue with the man. For now all he could do was wait and hope to learn the truth one day when the Headmaster deemed him ready. "The Flamels?" Harry asked with a note of worry, suddenly recalling his earlier conversation with Nicolas. "Will they be alright, Sir?"

Albus' expression returned to his usual grandfatherly demeanor as he regarded the boy for a moment before replying, "I had a long talk with Nicolas and his wife. We've both been after him for a long while now to destroy the stone. It's power and temptation is too grate. They have enough Elixir remaining to set their affairs in order," Albus assured him.

"But then they will die?" Harry asked, adding the ' _due to me_ ' silently in his head.

"Yes, they will die," Albus confirmed with a small nod of his head. Seeing the saddened expression on the boy's face he continued, "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know the stone was not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all – the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

Harry lay back, truly at a loss for words. _How could someone simply choose to die? I don't think I would ever be brave enough to do such a thing,_ he thought to himself. The death of Professor Quirrell did not weigh as heavily upon his shoulder as it had before speaking with the Headmaster. "Thank you, Sir. I think I would like to rest now."

"Very well, I shall leave you to it," Albus said before standing. "I'm certain Madam Pomfrey was close to tossing me out anyways for overstaying my welcome. Rest well, Harry," said Albus before taking his leave.

Harry lay there for a long time before sleep finally claimed him. He was willing to concede that perhaps he had done Quirrell a merciful favor; however, the Flamels were a different story. Their coming deaths weighed heavily upon his youthful conscience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the length of time since the last update. Towards the end of October I lost a very close and dear family member to ALS. It hit me rather hard and the Muse was in grieving along with myself. She has only just recently returned. I can't promise any regular updates to this story as I will be traveling at the end of the month which will make it difficult to write at all. Additionally I have two other projects I've embarked on that will no doubt take a portion of my time. One "What the Heart Wants" I began posting last week.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this new chapter as it brings to a close pretty much the important events of Harry's first year at Hogwarts. There are still a few things to cover when the girls return from hols and classes resume. Summer break is still six months away after all.
> 
> I do greatly appreciate you reading along and I hope you might be able to take a few moments to drop a review to let me know what you thought of the chapter, good or bad.
> 
> Kind Regards,
> 
> EJ Daniels


	20. Hide-N-Seek

**Chapter 20 - Hide-N-Seek  
. . .**

A stray sunbeam slowly made its way along the curves and contours of the old and wrinkled landscape till at last it brushed across the closed veined eyelids of the man's face. Even still it was some time before the aged wizard stirred and opened his ice-blue eyes to peer out through his half-moon spectacles. "I've seemed to have done it yet again," Albus mumbled to himself as he sat up, groaning as his stiff muscles made their protests known. The venerable wizard, leader of the Light, Order of Merlin First Class recipient had once again fallen asleep at his desk. _I'll be stiff and sore all day_ , he grumbled silently to himself.

Albus stood, allowing himself a small stretch, before walking around his desk and over to a door off to one side which led to his private quarters. Once through the door he took care of his morning ritual. There, near the door, hung a large picture frame with a blank canvas secured within it. The frame itself was exquisitely carved with flowers and vines' running about it in such a fashion that it was difficult to tell where one started and the next ended. The floral display was carved so well it almost appear life like in nature.

The canvas was black, but of late an image had slowly started to appear at its center. The aged wizard regarded it and once again thought it might be a chair of some sort. He hoped it would at least be comfortable as he didn't look forward to sitting on something for all eternity that would leave his rump numb. Quickly doing the math for the date in his head he selected the correct flower on the frame and placed his fingertip on it. The flower shuddered slightly before its petals reached out to encase the tip of the appendage. There was a small stab of pain as the finger was pricked and a drop of blood was extracted to be absorbed into the frame.

Most people believed that the moving portraits and those in them were painted, such was not the case. The initial frame and canvas treatments were done by wizards specially trained to bespell them with the correct enchantments; however they themselves did not paint the images. Instead the frames and canvas were a receptacle which the witch or wizard filled up over time with drops of their own blood. Contained within the precious fluid were the thoughts and memories of the donator themselves. The frame preparation was very costly so usually only those with money or in important positions could afford to make them.

For the most part the canvas remained blank till enough blood had been placed into it at which point an image would appear. Where the image came from was up for a matter of debate. Some, like Albus, believed it was the subconscious of the person that projected where they would like to be. Others maintaining that the image was a byproduct of the enchantments used to create the picture frame and canvas. He himself was hoping for a comfortable chair beside a table with a tea service and a good book. "A nice dish of lemon drops would be nice as well," he mumbled as he turned away from what would be his final gift to the Wizarding world. _Can't let them be without my guidance after all_ , he mused.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts went through his other morning ritual of bathing and dressing, selecting a light blue robe with moving clouds upon its surface. He always thought that the robe made him feel a bit lighter himself, as though he were floating like one of the many clouds. The robes were enchanted so that the sun which appeared on it would mirror the real sun's position as it traveled across the heavens. Albus knew it was a bit vain of him but he rather enjoyed the strange looks his robes always garnished from others.

Returning to his desk he ate the meager breakfast that awaited him, brought by his personal house elf, Middy. "Thank you, Middy," Albus said aloud, knowing the small elf would hear him. While he ate his morning porridge and fruit he looked over some paperwork from the ICW that he had allowed to pile up. Truthfully he had been rather distracted by cleaning up after the events that had transpired with Harry, Voldemort and the Stone.

Albus popped a slice of a succulent red strawberry into his mouth and sat back to enjoy its sweet taste. _Whatever am I to do?_ he pondered. _I have little doubt this was but the first attempt of Tom to return_. Though he hated to admit it, Albus was just as often in the dark as to Voldemort's plans as everyone else. It was only due to decades of experience and a better than average understanding of the Dark Lord that allowed him to make fairly accurate speculations. After all no one knew Tom Riddle better than he did.

"Very timely that letter requesting my presence at the Ministry," Albus said aloud as he thought about what had happened to remove him from the school that day. Upon returning to Hogwarts he had discovered that someone had broken through all the carefully laid traps that he and the other professors had arranged to safeguard the stone. _Safeguard is perhaps the wrong term_ , he realized as the tasks had been more designed to slow the individual rather than stop them. Slow them for just long enough to allow him and the other professors to arrive and apprehend the intruder. _It would have work had I not been called away_ , of that he was certain.

_I must figure out who at the Ministry can be trusted and who is working for Voldemort_ , he told himself. "If only Alastor hadn't retired last year, it would be a great deal easier to call upon him," the Headmaster mused, absently running his fingers through his long white beard as he thought the matter over. "Bones might be a good one to recruit, though she is one for going by the books." Following the rules was fine, when it suited his needs. The Chief Warlock had been known to bend them a time or two, when it suited his purpose.

"Arthur Weasley will no doubt help, but I shall need to recruit a few more," he realized. He did not have the numbers he once did, several being lost or, like the Longbottoms, incapacitated in the previous war. _Perhaps Kingsley Shacklebolt as he will give me an ear and eyes within the Aurors Department once again._ He would need to speak with Alastor to see if the retired man could suggest any others who might be sympathetic to their cause.

While he did not as yet wish to reform the Order he had little doubt that there would come such a time and that it was not too far off. It never pleased him to have to send others out on missions that very well might get them killed. If there were indeed dark times ahead, and he believed that there was, then he knew he would have to once again send friends into harm's way. Even though he hated it Albus knew that for the good of the many he would do it. "We're not ready for your return, Tom," Albus intoned with a weary sigh as he set his empty dishes aside. _Fate seldom waits for when we are_ , he added silently.

The charm on his stairs notified him of a visitor; hence he was not surprised when a knock came from his door. "Please come in Severus," the Headmaster beckoned his Potions Master.

Severus Snape entered the office, immediately spotting the remains of the Headmaster's breakfast. "Good morning, Headmaster. I hope I am not disturbing your morning meal?" the man asked as he crossed the room till he was standing before the rather large desk behind which sat his benefactor of these many years.

Albus gave the man before him a warm and welcoming smile. "I had just finished actually. Would you care to join me in a cup of tea?" Even as he made the offer a tea service appeared, set for two. Seeing Severus give a short nod the Headmaster poured him a cup and passed it across to the man before pouring his own. "Please have a seat, Severus," Albus offered, a chair appear at his gesture. "What can I do for you today?"

The potions professor seated himself, holding the saucer with its cup of tea in the palm of one hand. "I would like to discuss one of my students, Headmaster," Severus told him.

"I see," Albus replied with a twinkle in his eyes, "so this is to be about Harry Potter then." Seeing the slightly shocked expression on Severus' face he chuckled softly. "As Harry is the only member of your House in residence currently and he has been in the hospital wing for a week it wasn't hard to determine whom you would wish to discuss."

Severus took a sip of his tea, using it to cover as much of his uncharacteristic display of surprise as he could. "Yes, well, I am his Head of House so it is only natural that I would be concerned for his wellbeing."

"Quite right. This is exactly why you are Slytherin's Head of House. Despite the fact that most of them will disagree, and as hard as you try to hide it, you do care about the students placed in your care," Albus told him.

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _Why must he always feel the need to try and paint others in the best light_ , he wondered not for the first time. The Potions Master wasn't about to admit that he cared for the little brats that went to school at Hogwarts. "How is the boy? I was informed that he has awakened finally?" he asked instead to direct the conversation to the matter he had come for.

Albus gave a small smile, mostly hidden by his full beard, upon hearing the note of concern in the man's voice. "He has," Albus confirmed with a slight tilting of his head. "If would appear that Mr. Potter has been through a rather harsh ordeal, Severus. One no mere eleven year old should ever have to face."

"Then the rumors are true?" Severus asked, slumping down into his seat in disbelief. They had both feared that the Dark Lord was not dead, knowing that if that were so he would make a play to return to the living. He, much like the Headmaster, had hoped it would not be so soon. _Sometime after my death would have been preferable_ , Severus thought silently.

"What rumors?" the Headmaster enquired, his interest piqued. "Who started them?"

"I'm not certain, Sir," Severus answered truthfully. "However I have suspicions that it was the Weasley brats, George and Fred. Someone noticed that Quirrell was no longer at the school and that Potter's presence was missing from the meals. I guess it was a bit much to have him not seen for a week and not have anyone notice."

The Headmaster pondered this news for a few moments as they each sipped their tea lost in their own thoughts. "If all they have are assumptions then I think we shall be fine," he finally said. "I'll have Filius let slip that our young Mr. Potter had an accident, perhaps he slipped and fell on the ice causing him an injury. As he is only a first year as well as the sole Slytherin member in the castle, you felt it would be in his best interest to remain in the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey could watch over him."

"Must have been one hell of a fall," Severus scoffed under his breath as he took another sip of the excellent tea. The Potions Master knew that Albus would spin it however the man wished, regardless of his own thoughts on the matter. _There are times when he forgets that not all students are so easily hoodwinked_ , Severus speculated as he thought of Harry three closest friends. He had little doubt that any of the witches would believe the story. "So then it is true?" the professor asked instead in order to change the subject as he considered the previous one completed.

"I'm afraid so, my friend. Both the good…and the bad," Albus replied thoughtfully.

"And you're certain it was the Dark Lord?" Snape pressed, leaning forward in his seat, tea all but forgotten for the moment. There was a phantom pain within the dark mark on his left arm. A reminder of what it had been like during the war then years ago. Snape wanted to avoid going through that ever again if he could.

Once again Albus gave a nod. "From what I gathered from Harry, Voldemort's shade had possessed Professor Quirrell and waited for just the right time to try and take the stone. If it hadn't been for Harry I am certain Voldemort would have been able to obtain it and possibly return again. If that were to happen there would be very dark times ahead of us, I fear."

"If he were to return, the first thing he would do is call for me as well as the others," Snape offered, knowing that he would have little choice but to answer the call when it came. "He would want his inner circle there so that we could see that he cheated Death. What's the point in doing so if you can boast about it to others after all."

"If the call comes, which I fear it shall far sooner than we wish for it to, you must answer it without reservation, Severus," Albus told Severus earnestly. "I needn't tell you that you're the only one that can determine his plans and relay that information to the Order so that we can act accordingly."

"You know as well as I do the vows I am under, Headmaster," Severus snapped. The man's anger was not really directed at the aged wizard seated across the desk from him, but rather at himself. _I have none to blame but myself. This is the bed I made and the time will come when I must surely lie upon it._ "As well as the reason for what I do for the Order."

Albus sighed sadly for his friend. It had been a decade since the death of Lily and James Potter and still it hurt. Albus couldn't help but think, _I failed them_. "Even after all this time, Severus?" Albus asked gently, knowing the subject to cause the former Death Eater, who had loved the very woman betrayed, far more pain than it caused himself.

"Always!" Snape assured the Headmaster.

"I do not call upon your services lightly, my friend," Albus continued with. "If the time comes though I shall once more be counting on you, as shall we all."

Snape nodded once curtly, accepting his lot in life as the Headmaster's spy in the Dark Lord's camp. He had little doubt what his fate would be were he ever to be discovered. Death would be a blessing by the time the Dark Lord was finished with him. "Just be sure to do your part and keep her boy safe," Snape reminded the elder wizard who gave a nod of agreement. The two sat in silence for a moment sipping their now cold tea, lost in thoughts of another time…another war and the regrets they both held for past actions. "What happened to the stone?" Severus asked, breaking the silence.

Albus frowned sadly at the question. "Harry's magic completely destroyed the Mirror of Erised and the stone along with it as it was trapped inside," he answered.

"What are you going to do about Harry?" Severus asked softly, not certain he really wanted to know. Seeing the questioning look upon the Headmaster's face he continued. "This is the third time his magic has slipped the boy's control, each with disastrous effects. It is only through sheer dumb luck that no student other than the boy himself has been injured. Now he has killed a professor. If the parents of the other students hear tell of this, he will be seen as a danger to the entire school."

"Which is why we must see that doesn't happen, Severus," Albus declared evenly. "I will speak to Cornelius and have the Ministry exert their influence on the Daily Prophet and the Wizard Wireless Network to prevent any news of what has happened here from being leaked out. Minister Fudge is very concerned about his public opinion and a death within the very walls of Britain's premiere school would not sit well with the masses. At least that is how I will spin it to him," the wizard added with a small chuckle, knowing exactly how to handle the politician.

"What of the boy himself?" Severus pressed, concerned for the students in the school as well as for Harry himself. "Till he can control his magic, rather than it controlling him, he is a menace to everyone around him. Surely there must be something that can be done to either minimize his magic or assist him with controlling these outbursts of accidental magic."

Albus made a placating gesture towards his Potions Master. "I'm certain young Harry will learn his control in due time. That is what Hogwarts is here for after all, to teach young witches and wizards how to use and control their magical ability. Some just take a bit longer than others to learn," the Headmaster assured Severus.

"Until such time do we just hope that he doesn't injure anyone other than himself?" Snape asked with a slight sneer only to receive a nod of acknowledgement. It had always amazed Severus just how cavalier the man who was the reputed Leader of the Light could be when it came to his plans and what Albus saw as The Greater Good. "Then you won't mind if I were to speak with the Potter boy as his Head of house?" Severus requested. _It can't hurt to at least try and help Harry._ Snape knew he owed that and much more to the boy's mother.

"If you think it will help," Albus replied, giving him permission to do so. Truthfully the Headmaster was beginning to wonder if Harry's outbursts were really accidental magic. It wasn't just the fact that the boy was well past the age when such occurrences were believed by many to cease, no there was also that other reason he was worried. _He will have power the Dark Lord knows not_. "Perhaps if you can determine what causes the outburst to occur?"

Further musings were interrupted by the soft pop of the arrival of a school elf. "Headmaster," the small creature said with a respectful bowing of his head, "Madam Pomfrey has asked for your presence, Sir. She said to inform you it was a matter of some urgency concerning Harry Potter."

"Thank you. Please tell the good lady that I shall be there momentarily," Albus replied only to see the elf disappear. "Come Severus, let us not keep the good lady waiting," Albus said, inviting Harry's Head of House to come with him. Climbing to his feet the aged wizard left his office, potions Master in tow, and headed towards the hospital wing of the school wondering what had happened to the poor boy now.

**-oOo-**

Hermione Granger stood leaning against the wall, her trunk upon the ground near her booted feet, and eyed the portal that let out onto platform 9 ¾'s. The young girl's eyes were red and puffy as it had been a rather emotional goodbye with her parents before she had stepped through the portal from the non-magical side. Hermione hadn't realized just how much she had missed her mum and dad till she had seen them at King's Cross station waiting for her. She had cried then as well as had her mother, Emma. Leaving them once again had proven more difficult than she had imagined it would be.

The holidays had been wonderful as her parents had heaped untold amounts of attention onto their only child. The Grangers had even closed their practice down for the duration of Hermione's stay. For her part, Hermione had told them all about Hogwarts and the magical things she was learning there. Both parents quickly realized that along with their daughter's other friends a certain dark-haired wizard with the most amazing green eyes, per Hermione, figured prominently in all their daughter's stories. While Niles was of the mind that his little girl shouldn't be within a hundred feet of any boy, Emma found it all rather sweet. Both parents were happy though that Hermione had finally managed to make some friends.

On Boxing Day, the Grangers had met with the Greengrass' as Hermione had promised. Tracey and Daphne were taken for a drive so they could see for themselves what it was like to ride in an automobile. Hermione was a bit amused at her friend's expense as the witches played with the power windows and seemed to take more than a passing interest in the radio and the various types of music it could play at the touch of a button.

_All in all it was a great holiday break_ , she mused silently to herself. _I wish Harry could have been here as well._ The witch had thought to write her best friend but when she had tried to she found she didn't know what to say. _If I had told him about all the fun things I did or about when Daphne and Tracey were with me it would just make him feel bad for having missed out._ Hermione, in the end, didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings and hadn't written anything at all.

The loud commotion at the portal drew her attention from her thoughts of Harry. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas had stepped through the opening laughing and talking rather loudly about what they had done for their holidays. Neither boy so much as acknowledged her presence, though they both clearly saw her standing there. It saddened her to have someone hate her to the point that they ignored her completely. While things had gotten better for her in her own house there were those, mostly from her own year, that still treated her as an outcast.

"Pay them no mind, Hermione," Tracey's voice told her from beside her. The auburn-haired witch, upon stepping through the portal, had seen where her friend was looking as well as the sad dejected look that was upon Hermione's face. "They aren't worth your time or concern."

"I know," Hermione answered as she turned to regard her friends, a smile blossoming on her face upon seeing them. "I just wish…," the young girl's words trailed off as she wasn't certain just what exactly she wish, only that things were not as they currently were. _I wish having the friends I have didn't mean that the rest of my house wanted nothing to do with me._

"You've got us after all," Daphne spoke as she hugged the Gryffindor witch before stepping back so that Tracey could do the same. Though it had barely been more than a week since they had last seen each other they both had missed their friend. The Greengrass`, living in a magical household, didn't possess a telephone so they hadn't even been able to give Hermione a ring over the last week.

"And Harry," Tracey said as she stepped back to stand beside Daphne. "Best not forget him either," she added with a cheeky grin.

"As if any of you could forget, Harry," Abigail Greengrass scoffed teasingly, making her presence known and causing all three young witches to blush. Daphne's mother had spent the majority of the holidays hearing ' _Harry this_ ' and ' _Harry that_ ' from both her daughters. Abigail thought of Tracey as her own daughter as much as she did Daphne or Astoria. She loved all three of her girls dearly. When they had visited with the Grangers and Hermione had started in on her own Harry centric stories all the older witch could do was chuckle. _I hope I wasn't like that when I was their age_ , she had thought at the time.

"Mum!" loudly whined a slightly younger version of Daphne. "Don't talk about my Harry that way," the young girl warned.

"Oh this must be your younger sister?" Hermione exclaimed looking toward Daphne for confirmation and receiving it. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger," she said, extending her hand towards the youngest Greengrass daughter who had not been able to join them on Boxing Day. "It is very nice to finally meet you."

Astoria, with a slight nudge from her mum, stepped forward and took the older girl's hand in hers before giving it a shake. "A pleasure," the petite blonde girl replied. "I'm Astoria Greengrass. You're friends with Harry Potter?"

"Yes. Yes I am, Astoria," Hermione answered with a friendly smile. The small girl before her had the same hair as her mother and matching blue eyes with her older sister, Daphne. _She will no doubt be just as pretty when she is older_ , Hermione thought a little jealously. _Some girls have all the luck!_

Astoria's answering smile seemed to light up the young girl's face. "We should be friends too then so that when Harry and I are married we'll all be friends together," she told Hermione. "I think it is important that I get along with my husband's friends after all," she added, still shaking Hermione's hand enthusiastically.

Daphne stepped up behind her sister and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl's shoulders. "My Sweet, I think you can let go of her hand now," she told Astoria with a small smile, coming to her stunned friend's rescue. Hermione was left rather speechless, no sure what to make of the young girl's proclamation that she was going to marry Harry.

"Sorry," Astoria squeaked out, hastily releasing Hermione's hand and blushing in embarrassment at the same time. The younger sister leaned back into the older girl's embrace both in an effort to hide herself as well as to enjoy Daphne's attention which she never seemed to get enough of, at least in her opinion.

"You haven't married him yet, half-pint," Tracey was quick to point out with a teasing grin. ' _Half-pint_ ' being the name she had given the younger Greengrass daughter many years back. "Maybe he'll prefer someone his own height," she snickered, ribbing Astoria who was rather petite and hence short for her age.

Hermione could tell from the amusing tone in Tracey's voice that this was a long running point of contention between the two girls. _It's like they really are siblings_ , she suddenly realized. There was a small twinge of longing for the siblings she would never have, but it quickly passed. _I guess that makes sense what with Tracey staying with Daphne most of the time_. Hermione hoped that maybe one day Tracey and Daphne would come to think of her as another sister.

Turning on Tracey, Astoria shot the older witch a dark glare. "Why would he want someone like you? You can't even fix your hair properly and you dress strangely! I'm clearly the better choice!" the fired up girl told Tracey. "I'm certain Harry will want nothing further to do with you once he has seen me!"

Tracey snorted in amusement. "I didn't say me. Maybe he would like Daphne better. As for Harry, you haven't even met him yet, Tori." If there was one thing she loved it was messing with the youngest Greengrass girl. Tracey loved Astoria dearly but it was just too much fun to pass up and she knew all the right buttons to push. "Besides, Harry may like me, he _has_ already hugged me after all," she stated flauntingly.

Astoria's face turned red with anger upon hearing this news. Daphne had been very careful not to mention that Harry routinely hugged all three of them, a fact she knew her sister would be jealous of should she find out. Heaven forbid that Astoria learned that Harry had kissed her on the cheek! "How dare you hug my Harry!" Astoria fumed, partially struggling against Daphne's grasp in an attempt to get at the older girl. "Sissy said she will introduce me to H…Harry," Astoria stammered, too upset to speak clearly. "Just you wait! Harry will hug me too!" she declared heatedly.

"And so I shall," Daphne quickly cut in before the argument could escalate further. "Just as soon as I can, my Sweet," she assured her sister with a hug, shooting Tracey a warning look only to receive a small chuckle as her best friend decided to let the matter drop. "I'm sure Harry will be ever so pleased to meet you too."

Astoria spun about in her sister's arms, her large blue eyes looking up at Daphne hopefully. "Do you really think so?" she asked excitedly, her argument with Tracey completely forgotten due to the prospect of actually meeting the wizard of her young dreams. "I so hope he likes me," Astoria added, her brow creasing in worry. "What if he thinks I'm not pretty enough or to…short?" she asked the latter in little over a whisper. "Maybe he won't like me!"

"How can he not?" Daphne stated with a warm loving smile as she gazed down at the younger girl. "You're my sweet little sister and are completely adorable!" Astoria's cheeks blushed at the praise of the person she cared for most in the world. "I'm certain he will come to love you just as I do," Daphne told her before leaning down and kissing the smaller girl on her forehead.

"But I don't want him to love me as a brother," Astoria replied, cheeks tinged pink from her sisters affections. That was the last thing she wanted as brothers and sisters didn't get married. Even she knew that! "He has to love me as his wife," she told Daphne. "I mean we're to be family once we're married, but not that kind of family," the younger girl rambled.

"Yes, well we'll just have to see what we can do about that," Daphne replied, a hopeful smile once again appearing on the smaller girl's face. Hermione and Tracey had to work hard to hold back their giggles at the smaller girl's actions. They both couldn't wait to see how Harry would deal with the smaller girl and her affections. It was Harry after all, so they were certain he would be gentle, but both knew it would be rather entertaining to watch none the less.

"Not for many years yet though," Abigail interjected into the conversation quickly. "Not unless you want to give your father a heart attack that is," she added with a small smile to stop her youngest from protesting. "If you three do not hurry you may very well miss the train," she told the returning students only to hear the whistle blow signaling the imminent departure of the Hogwarts Express.

The Greengrass Matriarch gave all three girls, including a surprised Hermione, hugs goodbye. "Do behave," she instructed them as she held onto Astoria, who once again wanted to go with Daphne. "Don't forget to write. That means you as well Tracey," Abigail scolded only to grow a bit teary eyed at the witch's response.

"Yes, mum!" Tracey called over her shoulder as the three departing witches moved across the platform and boarded the train.

As not all the students had left school for the holidays the train was not nearly as full as it had been at the start of term. The three friends found an empty compartment and stored their trunks on the overhead racks. Tracey and Daphne sat on one side with Hermione on the other. The train had just started to move when the cabin door opened and Blaise Zabini stuck his head in. "Mind if I join you?" Upon receiving permission he stored his trunk and took the open seat next to Hermione. "So, good holidays?"

"Very good," Hermione answered first. "Gran's was the usual ' _only just contained chaos_ '," she offered with a tender smile at the thought of the day. Being an only child as well as a bit of an introvert, she did not handle the madhouse nearly as well as others might. There was something to be said for the quiet comfort of her books or the warmth of just a few dear friends. Still, she loved her family dearly, even if they were a bit on the loud and energetic side at times.

"Pretty much the same as last year," Daphne spoke up, answering for both Tracey and her. "Boxing Day we spent with Hermione and her parents. Father's New Year's party was a resounding success as it always is, mostly thanks to mum of course."

"Oh that reminds me, what happened to you on Boxing Day?" Tracey asked the dark boy. "We all got to go for a ride in the Granger's automobile."

"Really?" Blaise exclaimed, the disappointment evident in his tone. "Mum had me busy all day helping to clean up after the party," he explained. In truth he had spent the day nursing his hung-over mum back to a resemblance of health while the house elves did the cleaning. The young boy was too embarrassed to tell his friend that though. "I can't believe I missed that," he whined sorrowfully.

"I'm sure I can ask them to do it again over the summer, Blaise," Hermione offered the boy, feeling sorry for him.

"Really?" Blaise asked in a hopeful tone of voice as his head swiveled to regard the witch next to him.

"Count us in too!" Tracey proclaimed for both she and Daphne as neither wanted to be left out.

"I'll write to them and ask," Hermione assured her friends, pleased that such a simple thing could make them happy. Sometimes it still felt a bit unreal to her that she had friends, after going without for so long. With the New Year ahead of her she was determined to keep the friends she had and perhaps make a few more. The young Gryff had little doubt that of all the presents she had received last year, making friends with Harry and the others had been the best. "Speaking of writing, did any of you write to Harry?"

Daphne and Tracey both looked guilty upon hearing Hermione's question. "We thought about it," Daphne started with, "but we didn't know what to write to him," the young girl confessed. "You?"

Hermione gave a slight shake of her head. "Same. I didn't want to tell him how much fun I was having when he was at Hogwarts all by himself," she explained.

Tracey and Daphne were quick to nod in agreement. "It just seemed like it would have been cruel," Tracey added, her sad expression matching that of the other two girls.

Blaise just shook his head in disbelief as he watched the three witches. "Blimey, it's only been a couple of weeks," he finally said. "I'm sure Harry is fine. He had the entire Slytherin House to himself. How much trouble could he have possibly gotten up to with Professor Snape watching over him, I mean?" The young wizard leaned back into the seat. "Just you wait, I bet he'll be waiting at the doors for us!"

Only he wasn't. Neither did he join them for the returning feast held that evening. The Slytherin members of the Outsiders seated themselves, each with an apprehensive look upon their faces. "Any sign of him?" Daphne pressed Blaise for information concerning their missing friend. The first year had gone to check the boy dormitory for the missing wizard.

"No one has seen him since they've come back," Blaise told her and Tracey with a short shake of his head. "His trunk and things are gone from the boy's first year dormitory as well," he added.

"What could have happened to him?" Daphne fretted aloud only to be consoled by Tracey who was as equally concerned about Harry's apparent disappearance.

"You…you don't think," Blaise stammered hesitantly, "that he could have been expelled?"

"What for?" Tracey snapped, truly frightened by the thought. If that were the case then it would be likely that they would never see Harry again. Expulsion prior to achieving satisfactory OWLs meant that he would have been removed from the Wizarding world completely. "Harry would never have done anything to have caused them to kick him out!"

"I think we're about to find out," Daphne stated after swallowing heavily. The young witch gave a nod towards the doors to the great hall where Hermione had just entered with a strained and worried expression upon her face. The three waited till their friend had seated herself beside Blaise before speaking. "What have you heard?" Daphne was quick to ask, knowing from the Gryff's expression that it wasn't good.

"Harry was involved in some kind of accident or altercation around Christmas Day or the day after," Hermione told the other Outsiders. "I overheard the Weasley twins were speaking to their older brother Percy, who is a Gryffindor prefect. I think they were trying to get more information from him after noticing Harry's absence. Their brother was as much in the dark as the rest of us from what I could hear, but he did say that Harry was confined to the Hospital wing and no one had seen him since. Percy didn't seem to know any more about the matter though he did mention in passing that Professor Quirrell has apparently gone missing and didn't return from the break. Percy told the twins that he had heard that Professor Dumbledore would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts when classes resume in the morning."

"But Harry's alright?" Tracey asked, knowing it was the one question on all their minds at that moment. The more time that had passed without them locating their friend the greater the feeling of dread that something had happened to him had increased. After learning that Harry's things had been removed from the dormitory, Tracey had feared the worst. The young girl hadn't realized just how much Harry had come to mean to her, a fact that was only now beginning to dawn on her.

Hermione shrugged apologetically, "I don't know. No one has seen him," she reminded her friend. "He must be taking his meals in the hospital wing as the twins said they hadn't seen him in over a week." Hermione had asked the other students who had stayed behind for the holidays but they hadn't been able to tell her anything she didn't already know. _Oh Harry, what has happened to you now!_ she anguished silently.

The four of them looked at each other and then as one stood and hastened from the hall. It wasn't long before they were walking down the hall towards the doors to the hospital where they believed their friend now resided. As they neared the hospital wing doors they opened as if on their own accord and out stepped the Headmaster. "I thought I might find you four here," he told them with a kind grandfatherly smile.

"Headmaster, is Harry alright?" Hermione blurted out before any of the others could ask.

"Calm yourself Ms. Granger," Albus told her, holding up his hands and making a placating motion. "Mr. Potter is well and will be joining classes tomorrow," the Headmaster assured them all.

"What happened, Sir?" asked Blaise.

"Alas, that I cannot tell you, Mr. Zabini," Albus answered only to have to hold up a hand to forestall the outburst from the three witches present. "It is not my story to tell," he quickly explained, "as I was not there. For now it is best if we allow Mr. Potter his rest. Should he deem it appropriate to tell you then he shall do so but in his own time as well as his own manner."

"Can we see him?" Daphne enquired needing to see with her own eyes that Harry was alright. She refused to even entertain the notion that Harry had been expelled or removed from the school in any manner. It would have been just too painful to contemplate such a thing. _No, Harry's place is here with me…us…his friends_ , she had told herself instead over and over again.

"I fear not, Ms. Greengrass. Mr. Potter himself has asked that he not be disturbed," he added over their objections. "Might I suggest that for now you give him some time and allow him to come to you when he is ready?" Four sets of shoulders sagged dejectedly upon hearing his words. "Come, let us return to the great hall and partake of the excellent fare the elves have prepared for us this evening," Albus told them as he ushered them back the way they had come.

**-oOo-**

Tracey, Daphne and Hermione were seated in the front row of Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class. There was an empty seat between Daphne and Hermione that the witches were saving for Harry. The three witches had hurried through their breakfast once they realized that their missing friend wasn't going to join them. It was no surprise then when they were the first to arrive to the classroom that morning, even beating out Professor McGonagall.

They had barely spoken to each other as they sat, each turning to glance towards the door anxiously as the time crawled past. Once the other students from Slytherin and Gryffindor started to trickle in the three friends didn't even try to hide that they were watching the door. They fully expected Harry to walk through it, a bit worse for wear perhaps but with a welcoming smile for them all.

Instead of seeing Harry, it was Professor McGonagall who entered, closing the door behind her, before walking to the front of the classroom. "Your attention please. Today we will be learning the _Avifors_ spell from your _Standard Book of Spells_ book. The Avifors spell is a transforming spell that can be used to change an item or items into a bird, a flock of birds or flock of bats if you so wish. It is a simple spell; however, mastering a Transfiguration spell such as Avifors can be both rewarding and useful."

Hermione's hand shot up into the air upon hearing her Head of House's words. Once called upon she asked her question. "Professor, you said that the spell could be useful. Can you explain please?"

"I was getting to that, Ms. Granger," the professor replied, not surprised that the over eager learner had asked the question before she had a chance to explain her words to the class. "Once you have transfigured the item or items into birds or bats they can be controlled. There is also a possibility that they will simply fly away as well," she added upon seeing several hopeful faces among the students.

Tracey's hand shot up into the air and remained there till she was called upon. "Professor, how does this differ from that the Avis spell?"

"An excellent question, Ms. Davis. Five points for Slytherin," the elder witch stated though it seemed as if she rather had to force the words out past her lips. The rivalry between her house and that of Slytherin was well ingrained, even among the professors. "Avifors should not be confused with Avis, a spell to conjure a flock of birds which does not involve any transformation," McGonagall said in a voice loud enough to carry to the back of the classroom. "Can anyone tell me what other difference there is between the two spells?" Seeing the three witches in front all raise their hands she called upon Daphne.

"A conjured item is usually dependent upon the magic given to it by the caster. This means that it has a limited time before it will disappear. An item transfigured on the other hand will remain forever unless transfigured back or into some other item," Daphne answered.

"That is correct, Ms. Greengrass. Five points to Slytherin," McGonagall replied. "Some stronger than average witches and wizard can conjure items that may last for several years. The four Founders were said to have conjured parts of this very school which have endured for over a thousand years so far. If history is to be believed then Merlin was able to conjure items that then became real and would never fade away." The entire class oohed and awed at this news, amazed that such a thing could be done.

"While that may seem impressive, which it is, stop and think for a moment," McGonagall instructed the class once it had settled down a bit. "It would take an enormous amount of magical energy to conjure an item and have it remain forever or even a great length of time. Comparably it would require a far less amount of power to transfigure an item into something you need and have it remain that way forever." Seeing a hand raised in the air she called upon the student. "Yes, Ms. Parkinson?"

"If we can just transfigure things to what we need why is there a need to conjure anything at all?" the curious student asked.

"Conjuring items can be rather useful when your need for that item is only temporary. For instance you may need to conjure a ladder to reach something on a high shelf. Not wanting to keep the ladder you would simply dismiss it when you were done. Can anyone give me another reason?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione thought for a long moment before remembering a conversation she had with Harry regarding changing the pins back to books in the library. Hesitantly the young witch raised her hand and was called upon once again by her Head of House.

"Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall said, a pleased smile on her face that she would at last be able to award her own house with points.

"It might also be more difficult to transfigure an item than conjure it," Hermione stated.

"Can you explain why?" asked the professor.

"Harry once told me that Professor Dumbledore told him that it was harder to untransfigure something that someone else had transfigured and that it required a great deal of magic to do so. Part of the transfiguration process is the caster imprinting their belief that the item is what it is. In Harry's case it was that the book was actually a pin. So if you were to try and transfigure something which had already been transfigured wouldn't that same rule apply?" Hermione asked, finally pausing for a quick breath before continuing. "You would have to overcome the will of the original person who had transfigured the item in question the first time."

"Correct. Five points to Gryffindor," the professor awarded. "As there is no way at first glance to tell if an item has previously been transfigured most witches and wizard prefer to simply conjure what they need as it is quicker and more efficient. Transfiguration is for those who are not hasty or a bit lazy in their craft," she told the class. "It is for those who aren't afraid to put in the extra effort and wish to see the fruits of their labor for some time to come." It was apparent to all the students that she was very passionate about her area of expertise and rather looked down on those who relied on simple conjuring to do what they wanted.

"Now you may come to the front of the class and take a block of wood to use for practicing your spell. If you're feeling very sure of yourself you may take more than one," she told them as she gestured to a table to one side that was covered with small blocks of wood for their use. _I doubt that any of them will manage more than a single bird or bat_ , she thought only to glance towards the three witches in the front row. _Well, maybe they will_.

"Once you have completed the spell you may go," McGonagall informed them once everyone had returned from getting their wood. The Scottish witch resisted the urge to chuckle as she witnessed several students suddenly become eager to complete the assigned task. "I want a two foot scroll on the comparison between Transfiguration and Conjuring for next class. Be certain to include examples of spells from both branches of magic and how they differ from each other." Her words were met with many suffering groans from the students before her. The aged witch fought the urge once again to chuckle as it wouldn't do her reputation of a stern Deputy Headmistress any good. _Students are the same the world over and in every year._

The Transfiguration professor was turning towards her desk when her attention was suddenly drawn to the rear of the room. A bright blue flash of light had drawn the attention of the entire class. As they all watched a group of six black bats leapt into the air and flew one right behind the other, in a dizzying display of aerial acrobatics. The small colony of night time creatures continued their performance as the class looked on in disbelief.

Professor McGonagall tore her eyes from the mesmerizing patterns of the bats and looked to the back of the room to see who had created them so fast. The witch's eyes grew slightly wider upon see whom it was currently packing his items away. "Ten points to Slytherin. Well done, Mr. Potter." The three witches in the front row spun about just in time to see the back of their friend as he walked out of the classroom, closing the door behind him without so much as a glance in their direction.

That afternoon they did not see Harry in their History of Magic class, just as he hadn't been present for lunch. In Charms class the following day they took the seats closet to the door and waited for their absent friend to arrive. It wasn't until the class was called to order that they saw Harry seated in the chair closest to Professor Flitwick's desk. All three wondered how they had missed him being there the entire time. As soon as class was over Harry had approached the small man and the two had disappeared into the professor's office.

The three determined witches arrived at their Herbology class Wednesday morning, set upon corning Harry and learning why he was avoiding them. They had come close to doing so the previous day at the end of the Potions class however Professor Snape had been hovering around their friend. None of them had wanted to approach Harry with the Potions Master standing right there. In the end they had waited outside for the young wizard only to be shooed away by Professor Snape as he left the then apparently empty classroom.

Their best intentions and determination would not be enough as Harry was at none of their classes that day, not even the flying class. That night they approached Professor Sinistra, their Astronomy teacher, once the class had finished. "I thought you might come and find me," the youngest professor at Hogwarts said as the three girls approached her after class.

"We're just worried about Harry," Daphne confessed anxiously.

"We just want to make certain that he is alright," Tracey was quick to add.

Hermione nodded in agreement with her friends. "If we can we'd like to help him as well," said the young Gryffindor witch.

"It is very commendable that you wish to help your friend," Aurora replied to the three of them. "I'm afraid though that this is not something you can help with. If Mr. Potter wished for your assistance then I am certain he would ask for it." Seeing their disheartened expressions Auror went on to tell them, "We were given instruction not to approach Mr. Potter. The Headmaster himself is seeing to the matter apparently. Whatever the issue is, perhaps Mr. Potter doesn't want you involved because it is dangerous. He may be trying to protect you by forcing you away," she suggested to the trio.

"But is he truly alright?" Hermione pressed. The possibility that Harry was in danger, at least in her mind, outweighed the fact that he didn't want their help. Judging by the looks on Tracey and Daphne's faces Hermione knew she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

Aurora looked about the deserted tower top to make certain that they were indeed the only ones remaining. "Mr. Potter and I spoke last night," she conferred to the three first year witches. "Being ' _alright_ ' is a bit different than being good. While I will not break his trust by discussing what we actually spoke about, I can tell you that he is as concerned for his friends as they are for him."

"So you think that we should just give Harry time and that he'll come to us when he is ready?" Tracey asked, believing that was what the older witch meant. The young girl didn't like the thought of that, not one bit! Tracey was worried about the boy and missed having him around. She hadn't realized just how much his presence meant to her till she was denied it, a fact she was certain the others were also discovering for themselves.

"I didn't say that," Aurora replied with a small smile. "I only know that if I had a friend that was hurting I would do everything in my power to help him and be there for him. Even if he didn't want me to be. Not that I have one…who happens to be a first year, mind you," the Astronomy professor added. "I'm just saying that if I did…well, I would want to help him as well."

"Thank you Professor!" the three witches chorused together before hurrying away.

"Go get him, ladies," Aurora whispered under her breath watching their retreating backs as they disappeared down the stairway. It was true that she and the rest of the staff had been directed to assume a hands-off approach to Harry for the time being. _That doesn't mean I can't have someone else help draw the boy out of his self-imposed exile_ , she mused with a small smile. _Or in this case three witches who he won't be able to say no to, unless I miss my guess_.

**-oOo-**

Thursday was a late start day due to their Astronomy class which hadn't ended till three o`clock in the morning. The three witches had met up for brunch in the great hall and to work out their plans for the coming charms class. It was decided that Hermione would sit on the Gryffindor side as usual, in the closest seat to the professor's desk. Daphne and Tracey would sit in their places on the Slytherin side, the seats furthest in.

Professor Flitwick climbed up upon his pile of books and brought the class to order. Hermione, slightly outraged at the treatment of something she held dear, namely books, had asked the professor why he didn't make a stand for himself. The experienced professor had looked at her with the look all adults use when telling a child something that should have been obvious, "Because it is far quicker and easier to conjure them than transfigure something, Ms. Granger." That had been during their second week of school. Since then Hermione did her best to ignore the books being stepped on.

"Alright, let's begin," the man perched atop his conjured books said. "Mr. Potter, as you're the closest would you be so kind as to close the door? Thank you," he said to the boy once his request had been met. "Today we will be learning the Unlocking Charm," he said addressing the entire class. "Now can you tell me what was used prior to the Unlocking charm?" Several hands went up at his question. "Ms. Patil," the professor selected.

Daphne leaned in near Tracey and whispered to her best friend. "I didn't even see Harry come in."

"Me either and I was watching the door the entire time," Tracey replied, just as confused as the other witch.

"How does he keep avoiding us," the blonde witch growled under her breath in frustration.

"I don't know but remind me to never play hide-n-seek with him," Tracey quipped back causing her friend to snort in laughter behind a hastily raised hand which covered her mouth.

Parvati Patil smiled a bit nervously before replying. "That would be Portaberto, Professor," the young Gryffindor witch answered with.

"That is correct! Five points for Gryffindor," Professor Flitwick awarded with a smile. It always pleased him to teach bright and eager minds. "Portaberto was designed to splinter the lock from the door, though it had a greater tendency to leave a smoking hole in the lock where the keyhole should be. Still, even Portaberto was a vast improvement over its predecessor, Open Sesame, which pulled the entire door off its hinges and ripped it into firewood. Both of these were much more rudimentary and by far less subtle than the current Unlocking charm. Who can tell us where the charm came from? Ms. Davis?" the professor asked before any hands had gone up.

"Although it is unknown who invented it, the spell was brought to Britain, and hence to the world, in the 17th century from Africa by Eldon Elsrickle. He reportedly used it to terrorize London, stealing from the homes of Muggles and wizards alike, until Blagdon Blay invented the Anti-Alohomora Charm," Tracey answered, surprising Daphne who was unaware that her friend knew the answer.

"Well done, Ms. Davis! Five points for Slytherin!" the diminutive professor exclaimed happily. "That is also why the charm is sometimes known as _The Thief's Friend_ as it allows the person to enter and leave rather discreetly. It also comes in very handy when you've misplaced your house key," Filis added, eliciting a few grins and giggles from the room of first year students.

The Charms Professor launched into a detailed explanation of the Unlocking Charm, Open Sesame and Portaberto spells, offering extra credit for anyone writing an essay on the differences between them and turning it in by their next charms class. Next followed instructions on the proper wand movement and annunciation of the Unlocking charm. It took a few in the class longer than normal to get the proper wand movement correct.

Near the end of the class Hermione caught the professor's attention and whispered something to him. After a quick nod from the man she stood and left the classroom to use the loo. As Hermione passed Harry she saw that he had his face down and wouldn't even look at her. Perhaps more startling though were his hands, for they seemed to be scaled like a snake's skin would be. _What happened to him?_ she wondered as she left the room. _Was he hexed in some manner?_ Hermione pondered as her concern for her friend continued to grow.

The remaining quarter hour of the class was spent practicing the required wand movement of the spell, resulting in several locked drawers in the class room suddenly opening on their own, much to the delight of the class and chagrin of the professor. "That will do for today class," Professor Flitwick finally said. "For Tuesday's class I would like all of you to submit a two foot scroll on the Locking charm as well as the Anti-Alohomora charm by Blagdon Blay that Ms. Davis was kind enough to inform us of. I am of course available if anyone has any questions."

"Professor?" Daphne was quick to call out, drawing professor Flitwick over to her. _That should keep Harry from using the professor as a reason to remain behind_ , she thought. This was all a part of the plan the three of them had cooked up that morning to ensnare their friend. They needed him to leave the classroom as quickly as possible in order for their plan to work.

Even as the words were leaving Daphne's lips Tracey stood and slung her book bag over her shoulder and hastened around the desks, heading for the door. Ahead of her she could just see Harry as he left the classroom. The young girl hurried, pushing past her fellow House mates and the others. Breaking free of the masses she could see the young wizard ahead of her pulling something from his bag. "Harry! Wait up!" Tracey called in a vain attempt to get his attention and force him to either talk to her or flee.

The young wizard quickened his pace upon hearing his name called so close behind him. Nearly sprinting down the corridor he yanked his cloak from his bag just as he turned the corner…and froze. There, half-way down the hallway, waiting for him was Hermione. The young brunette witch was staring directly at him. _It was a well thought out plan_ , he silently admitted as he realized the reason for Hermione leaving the class earlier. _It might have worked too_ , the apparently trapped wizard thought just before he tossed the invisibility cloak about himself and vanished.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled upon seeing the boy disappear right before her eyes, but not before she had seen the completely devastated look upon his face. "Don't shut us out," she pleaded as her eyes filled with tears. It hurt to be rejected when all she wanted to do was help her friend. "Please just talk to us! Tell us what's wrong! Let us help you!"

Harry had been Hermione's first true friend. He had stayed with her when she felt she didn't deserve it. Her friend had even acted as if the bullying happening to her was happening to him when they had gone and spoken to Professor Sinistra. Then there had been the incident with the troll and how she had been so certain she had lost him. She'd never felt so scared before in her life. The image in the mirror had shown her that she might be developing feelings for the young boy which was why the past few days had been horrible as she felt she was losing her best friend. "Please Harry, don't leave us," she stammered, tears running down her cheeks. "Don't leave me," she added with a tearful sob, "I don't want to be without my best friend."

Tracey rounded the corner only to see a crying Hermione and no one else. "Where did he going?" she asked but the other girl was far too upset to answer. The young Slytherin witch pulled Hermione to the side of the corridor so that they weren't blocking the way for the other students who stared as they passed, wondering what had happened. Tracey glared at the overly curious one till they turned away, wishing to spare the crying witch as much embarrassment as possible.

It wasn't long before Daphne arrive carrying her book bag as well as Hermione's. "What happened?" she asked upon seeing Hermione crying into Tracey's shoulder.

"I…I don't know," Hermione stammered as she worked to regain control of herself. "He just vanished, right before my eyes," she explained. "I begged him to talk to us...to not shut us out," she told them, getting worked up once again in spite of herself. "I just miss him so much," Hermione admitted with a shuddering sob.

"We all do," Tracey offered, trying to console the distraught witch leaning on her.

"You all need to stay away from me," a very strained disembodied voice said from near at hand.

"Harry!" all three witches exclaimed, turning and looking hopefully about at the now empty corridor. The other students had already left, heading to their next classes. Where ever he was they apparently couldn't see him.

"Harry, why are you doing this?" Hermione asked in a tearful voice, hastily wiping at her eyes. The young girl didn't want Harry to see her like this, crying and all puffy eyed, but she wanted…no, needed answers from him. _He must think I'm a blubbering baby_ , she berated herself while awaiting Harry's response.

"I…I have to," the strained voice of their friend replied from somewhere off to their left. "I…I could kill one of you and I would never be able to forgive myself for that. You have to understand Hermione, all of you do, that this is for your own good. It's just how it has to be."

"We don't understand, Harry," said Daphne as her chest felt heavy with sorrow at his words. She, like the others, could clearly hear how painful this was for Harry. The young wizard's voice was thick with sadness as well as other emotions that they could not identify. It made no sense to her young mind why he would do this to them when it was so apparent that he didn't like it any more than they did. "Please, can you explain it to us?"

There were several long moments of silence which stretched on till they feared the boy had left without answering them or giving then any form of explanation. "Please, Harry," Tracey begged almost desperately. "You're our friend and nothing will ever change that," she assured him. "Don't just leave us like this."

"I…I can't explain it, not really," Harry's voice finally answered them from further down the corridor. "Even the Headmaster and Madam Pomfrey do not understand it. I can show you though, but you have to stay there." All three witches nodded that they would only to see a disembodied hand appear in the air. As they watched in puzzlement the hand touched the castle wall. As soon as the boy's hand rested against the stone the hard surface began to darken till it turned completely black at which point is dissolved into a powder or ash and silently fell to the floor.

The three witches gasped in horror as their friends touch disintegrated the surface of the stone before their very eyes. After a few more moments the hand vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The damaged block slowly began to repair itself. "If I were to accidently touch any of you I would kill you just…just as…," the boy paused, unable to continue for a long moment. "While the castle can apparently repair itself, you cannot. I won't risk any of you. You mean too much to me," his receding voice told them. "Just forget about me. You're safer that way."

"Wait, don't leave, Harry!" Daphne called, believing that was exactly what her friend was doing. Her call echoed down the corridor, unanswered like so many of the questions in her head and heart.

"Bloody hell!" Tracey exclaimed blowing out a lung full of air in frustration even as she rubbed Hermione's back in a comforting manner as the bushy-haired witch was once again crying uncontrollable due to being apparently abandoned by her first friend. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know," Daphne answered sadly as she stared down the vacant hallway suddenly feeling more than a bit lost and set adrift.


	21. Subtle Hands

**Chapter 21 – Subtle Hands  
. . .**

Harry staggered into the empty music room and closed the door behind him. Tears ran down his youthful cheeks and he hurt like he never had before. The past few days had been among the most miserable of his entire life, which was saying something. Isolating himself from his friends hurt as much, if not more so, than one of uncle Vernon's beatings. It was that fact and his conversation with Professor Sinistra which had led him to the confrontation with his friends in the hall from which he had just fled.

Sliding down the wall just inside the door till he was seated upon the floor, Harry hugged his knees to his chest and rested his forehead against them as he cried. The look of hurt Hermione's face had worn when he had vanished danced behind his closed eyes. The wizard's mind wandered back to where it all had started going so very wrong.

Two days had passed since he had awoken in the hospital wing of Hogwarts after being asleep for five days. _It's already been a week_ , Harry thought to himself as he lay in bed, still rather drained from the ordeal with Professor Quirrell. The young wizard raised his hands and stared at them for a long moment, recalling what exactly they had done to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. _I killed him_ , he told himself not for the first time or the last. _Professor Dumbledore may believe it was the merciful thing to do but it certainly wasn't for mercy's sake that I did it._

_All it took was a touch_ , he thought as he recalled grasping the man's wrists in an effort to defend himself. Harry could see the shocked expression on the professor's face which quickly changed to pain as his limbs turned to ash and crumbled away. The dying man's screams still echoed within the boy's head, returning to haunt him whenever he closed his eyes to sleep. Madam Pomfrey had been required to resort to dreamless slumber potions to get the boy to sleep at all. Harry turned his hands over looking at the back of them before inspecting their palms once again as if there was something there that would explain everything to him. Something that would let him know that what he had done was alright.

The Flamels were an entirely different story. While he might be able to eventually convince himself that Professor Quirrell's death was self-defense the young boy knew such was not the case with the stone. The mirror had glowed with a brilliant light, infused with his magic, before it had exploded into countless pieces. The once pristine glass which showed the hopes and dreams of countless observers over the centuries reduced to nothing more than sand. _Much like the stone was_ , Harry lamented to himself silently, remorseful for what his actions had forced upon the Flamels.

"Oh good, you're awake, Mr. Potter," the school's mediwitch said as she bustled into the screened off area which was Harry's. "I think it would be best if you got up and moved around a bit this morning as it will do you good. You've been laying in that bed for a week already and your muscles could use the exercise," Madam Pomfrey told her charge in her usual business-like manner.

"I wouldn't mind being able to get up and walk around a bit," answered Harry. Truthfully he needed to use the loo and the past two days of bedpan usage had left him both embarrassed as well as uncomfortable in the older witch's presence. "Just for a bit."

"Well, if you feel up to it then," Madam Pomfrey assured him, staying near enough to be of use should he require her assistance. She had more than once seen a person stand only to fall forward onto their faces and she was determined to make certain that didn't happen with Harry.

Harry threw his covers off before sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Pausing for a long moment he stood up only to feel dizzy. Reaching out he grasped the edge of the nightstand next to the bed to steady himself only to have it turn to ash and crumble away at his touch. Harry yanked his hand away as if he'd been burnt, a look of horror spreading across his face as he stood there swaying back and forth slightly before plopping back down onto the bed.

"Oh dear, that can't be good," the mediwitch stated as she wiped out her wand and started running tests on the boy. Several minutes passed with Harry only growing more and more anxious as Madam Pomfrey ran test after test. "Nabby," the witch finally called out as she tucked her wand away, "please inform the Headmaster that I request his presence. Let him know it is an urgent matter concerning Harry Potter."

Harry wasn't certain just who she was talking to as he couldn't see anyone else with them. "Madam Pomfrey, how bad is it?" he finally managed to ask. What had happened to the corner of the nightstand was very similar to what had happen when he had touched Professor Quirrell. The young wizard feared that he would never be able to touch anything again. Faced with that fear he suddenly found that he no longer needed to use the loo as badly as he'd thought he had.

"I am not certain, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey replied honestly. "I cannot find anything wrong with you, at least nothing the normal detection spells can see," she tsked in frustration. The woman had been the school's mediwitch for some time and prior to that had been a Chief Healer at St. Mungo's for nearly three decades. Poppy seldom was unable to diagnose an ailment, especially when it came to her children at Hogwarts. _Nothing is ever simple for this child is it?_ she growled disapprovingly to herself.

It wasn't long before the Headmaster arrived with Harry's Head of House, Severus Snape. The aged wizard gave the young boy a reassuring smile in way of greeting. "Feeling better are we, Harry?" Albus enquired after the boy.

"I was, Sir," Harry said forlornly from his seat upon his bed as he stared at the man hopefully. If there was anyone who could help Harry from his current situation it had to be Albus Dumbledore, the arguably most power wizard since Merlin himself, or so the boy believed. Harry hoped the Headmaster could help as he really hadn't a clue as to how to manage going through life without touching anything at all.

The Headmaster eyed the boy, noting nothing of importance that seemed to be wrong with him. The darkened and partially dissolved nightstand though did give him pause. "Madam Pomfrey," Albus greeted the mediwitch as he turned and regarded her. "You mentioned that it was a matter of some urgency?" Albus asked with an arched brow.

"Yes, Headmaster," Poppy replied, still slightly lost in thought as she tried to figure out exactly what the issue with her charge was. "Mr. Potter has developed a rather startling…affliction," she called it with only a slight pause. "Can you please show them?" she asked of the boy seated on the hospital bed.

Harry nodded hesitantly, eyeing the three adults briefly before he reached out and laid his hand on the nightstand beside his bed. Just as before the surface darkened and then started to flake away just as ash would. As the two learned wizards watched in astonishment Harry's hand passed through the furniture, rending the parts he touched into a pile of ash on the floor.

"Most remarkable!" Albus exclaimed with a touch of excitement. At his great age there was very little in life that surprised him these days, yet every so often life tossed him for a loop with something completely unexpected. Such was this latest development with Harry. After the incident in the library and then with the troll, Albus was beginning to believe that such feats of incredible magic were the boy's trademark. _Could this in fact be 'the power he knows not'?_ Albus wondered to himself, realizing he would have to give it further thought.

"I'm sorry," Harry hastily stammered, staring at the damaged furniture, afraid he'd get in trouble even though he had been instructed to demonstrate what was happening. The boy was still in a bit of shock over this latest turn of events. _Why am I surprised? Nothing has ever been normal or simple where my life is concerned_ , he mused silently to himself. _Just one more thing to set me apart from everyone else_.

"I take it that this is a relatively new development?" Albus enquired looking back and forth between Harry and Madam Pomfrey only to see them both give a nod of agreement. _Why now? Why not when he first awoke? His clothes seem unaffected as is the floor where his feet rest upon it._ "Harry, what were you doing just prior to it happening the first time?"

"I was lying in bed, Sir," Harry was quick to answer. Seeing the elder wizard waiting for him to continue he did. "Madam Pomfrey came in and said that I should probably get up and walk around a bit. I had to use the loo," Harry admitted, his cheeks blushing in embarrassment a bit at the admission, "so I stood up and was a bit dizzy, Sir. When I reached out to steady myself, well Bob's your uncle," Harry stated with a gesture to the now nearly completely dissolved nightstand.

"Most remarkable, indeed," Albus said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully, pondering what to do next.

"What of his other hand?" Snape asked into the silence, drawing everyone's gaze. "The damage was done with his left hand, assuming he stood normally, the nightstand to his left. Have you touched anything with your right hand?"

Harry looked down at his hands, resting against his thighs, palms upward and not touching anything. "No, Sir," he finally answered after a long moment. Upon receiving a slight nod of approval from the Headmaster, Harry reached over with his right hand and laid it against a portion of the stand that was still intact only to witness it darken and ash away as well. The stand, unable to retain its upright position any longer, crashed rather loudly to the stone floor.

"Would I be correct in assuming that you have been unable to find the reason for this as yet, Madam Pomfrey?" Albus enquired, looking toward the concerned mediwitch.

"The usual detections spells come back with nothing, Headmaster," Poppy confirmed. "I would like to discuss the matter with a few colleagues from St. Mungo who are experts in different fields of magic and hence might know something that can help us."

"Understandable," Albus agreed after a few moments of thought. "I would however caution against revealing that the patient you are concerned about is Harry here. I fear that should news of this get out to the media there would be all manner of problems for us as well as Harry," he added, with a grandfatherly smile towards the seated wizard.

"Headmaster, what are we to do about the boy in the mean time?" Severus asked. "We can't have him walking about the school, turning half of it to ash in the process!"

"I believe Professor Snape is correct, Harry," Albus directed at the boy. "I think it would be best for you to remain here under the watchful eyes of Madam Pomfrey for the time being."

"Yes, Sir," Harry acknowledged, thankful that it was the holidays still and that most of the school was gone. Having been a resident of the Hospital wing during normal school days he well knew that there was a steady stream of witches and wizards in and out of the place. Students attempting to learn new spell and brew new potions were oft likely to injure themselves. The last thing Harry wanted was a bunch of people staring at him as had happened before.

"If we haven't determined a cure within the remaining time before the students return you may have to remain here for their safety," Albus added, knowing what the forced exile would mean for the boy. "Your meals shall be brought to you here as I am sure you'll prefer that to eating in the great hall."

"I'll see that his personal effects are move here, Headmaster," Poppy offered. "I believe it would be best to move him into one of the private rooms that are usually reserved for the more critically injured," she offered, believing that it would also keep the boy from gawking eyes that were certain to show up once Harry's absence was noticed by the other students, if it hadn't already been.

"I will leave that up to your discretion, Madam," Albus told the mediwitch. "Harry," the Headmaster said stepping to the boy and reaching out to pat him on the shoulder only to see Harry flinch away from the touch.

"You probably shouldn't, Sir," Harry cautioned as he eyed the Headmaster. "I would feel terrible if you were to get injured because you touched me." Harry wasn't certain just what was wrong with him and was afraid that whatever he had might hurt someone. The young wizard realized at that moment that he would have to stay away from the other Outsiders as well. The last thing he wanted to do was to be the cause of one of them being hurt or worse, killed like Professor Quirrell.

"Rest assured, Harry, you shall not have to go through life without the touch of another," Albus told the boy as he reached out and grasped his shoulder only to hear the boy gasp in surprise. "See, nothing has happened," Albus said after a few moments. Beneath his hands he could feel the boy relax slightly.

"H…how did you know?" Harry asked hesitantly, both curious as well as relieved.

Albus gave his best grandfatherly smile. "Your feet were resting upon the flagstones of the floor without ill effect and your clothes had not as yet crumbled away to embarrass both you as well as us," he added with a small chuckle. "From these observations I deduced that the aliment seemed to be localized to your hands alone, or so I hoped," he admitted with a merry twinkle in his eyes.

"And if you had been wrong?" Poppy snapped, not at all pleased with the risk the Headmaster had taken. _The old fool!_ Truth be told the Mediwitch respected the venerable wizard both as a friend and a mentor, however she had lost friends over the years from them doing such foolish things without a thought as to the consequences of their actions.

"Well, I am an old wizard and have lived a long and bountiful life," Albus replied in a humorous tone. "Perhaps it would be best if we were to allow Mr. Potter to get some rest," Albus continued with before the mediwitch could say anything further. "I seem to remember there was something mentioned about using the loo, as I recall." Harry blushed furiously, realizing that he would need assistance to relieve himself.

"Come Severus," Albus instructed, feeling it would be best to give Harry as much privacy as they could. "I shall return later, Harry. Do try and get some rest." The Headmaster, followed by his Potions Master, turned and exited the curtained off area. Harry watched them leave with some relief only to turn back to see Madam Pomfrey holding a bedpan.

"The sooner we get this over with the better for the both of us, Mr. Potter." Poppy wasn't certain how the boy managed it but he seemed to get even redder.

**-oOo-**

The few remaining days of the Yule holidays passed rather uneventfully for the young wizard. True to her word, Madam Pomfrey moved him into a private room that was the size of a normal bedroom. One of the added advantages of the new room was that it came with several chairs so that Harry didn't have to remain in bed all the time. He quickly learned though that he had to be careful when a casually placed hand accidently dissolved half a chair, dumping him rather painfully upon the hard floor.

The morning of the day the remaining student were scheduled to arrive back at Hogwarts found the young wizard seated in a chair eating his morning meal. A charmed spoon saved him from the embarrassment of having to be feed by Madam Pomfrey. As was the habit ever since he had discovered his newest oddity, Harry's thoughts were on his new friends and just what this meant to the Outsiders.

_Whatever shall I do without them?_ he mused as he chewed his way through the porridge. _I'm certain they won't understand in the least_. Harry had hopes, at least at first, that he might be able to be around the three witches and one wizard that made up their group. Several occurrences of reaching out and touching things reflexively had shown him the error of his thoughts. _I wouldn't be able to live with myself should I accidently touch one of them. What if they stumbled and I reached out to steady them only to remove an arm or worse?_

The thought of once again going back to not having friends was something Harry really didn't want to contemplate but as more time passed he didn't see where there was really any other option. Madam Pomfrey had not discovered anything new, even after discussing the matter with her colleagues. _I was probably better off never making friends in the first place_ , he thought as the sadness welled up in his chest and caused it to hurt. No sooner had he thought that than he realized that it was a lie. "My life has been so much better since meeting them," he admitted aloud just before accepting the next spoonful of his meal.

"I'm glad to see you eating. It is important to keep one's health up during such trying times, Harry," the Headmaster's voice stated from the door to Harry's room. "May I come in?" the aged wizard asked as the boy hastily swallowed the last of his meal.

"Please," Harry answered after clearing his mouth of food. "I would offer you something to drink but…," his words trailed off as he raised his hands and gave them a little shake to indicate they were the reason for his lack of hospitality.

"Then allow me," Albus replied with a twinkle in his eyes as a tea service appeared on a small table. The Headmaster served them both and then with an added wave of his wand, enchanted Harry's tea cup to rise and allow him to drink from it without having to touch it with his hands. Once done the man pulled up a chair and took a seat near the boy.

"Thank you, Sir," Harry said gratefully after savoring a sip of the hot beverage. The warm liquid slipped down his throat and dropped into his stomach, its warmth slowly seeping throughout his body in a relaxing manner. Harry was rather curious as to why the Headmaster was there. He knew the busy man couldn't have come just to see how he was doing. People just didn't do that with him, however the man's opening words seemed to indicate that was exactly why he was there.

"How are you fairing, Harry?" asked Albus before taking a slow sip from his own cup. The venerable wizard regarded the youth over the rim of his cup. For all that Harry had faced a near death on Boxing Day and then been afflicted with the ailment in his hands, Albus had to admit that the boy looked to be doing rather well. Poppy had informed him though that the boy suffered from nightmares and was still required to use dreamless slumber draughts in order to sleep at all. It was a troubling matter to say the least for one so young.

"Well enough, Sir," Harry replied with a small shrug of his shoulders. "A bit board I suppose," Harry added. There wasn't much he could do without the use of his hands. While he would have liked to have read his school books he was afraid of turning them to ash. _Merlin forbid I should accidently touch a library book_ , he thought with a shudder, certain Madam Pince would have his hide for sure.

"I imagine you are rather looking forward to the return to your studies," Albus proposed with a small grin. He had been informed by his professors that Harry was a very intelligent as well as studious young man. Even Severus had given the boy praise for his potions work which was a bit of a welcomed surprise. Albus wasn't certain just how much of it was the due to boy's hard work or the influence of the three witches that seemed to be with him every waking moment.

"Not really," Harry confessed sadly as his eyes dropped to his hands in his lap. The young wizard wasn't looking forward to classes for several reasons actually, chiefly among those being the fact that he was fearful of hurting his friends or someone else. The other issue was that he wasn't even certain he could continue his classes. "Professor, I don't think I can sit my classes as I probably can't even grasp my wand, Sir."

Albus eyed the upset boy for a long thoughtful moment before asking, "Have you tried, Harry?" Albus Dumbledore was a well learned wizard. One of the few advantages to living a long time. Over the course of the last several days he had given the matter of Harry Potter some considerable thought. He had several theories but no real way to test them without placing someone in harm's way.

The Headmaster's leading theory was that Harry's mother had done something at the time of her death to safeguard her only child. While he had as yet been able to tell what spell or ritual the deceased witch had used Albus was fairly certain that there had been one. _Perhaps it is her sacrifice which is protecting young Harry_ , he had speculated several times over the past few days.

_It is probable that Harry's own magic has, in some manner, altered the protection Lily bestowed upon him that night._ Albus had no real other theory in which to explain why Harry's mere touch had killed Quirrell unless he was willing to admit that the boy's magic had lashed out and did it all on its own. The thought that Harry had that kind of power and was unable to control was enough to scare the aged wizard greatly. This latest issue with the boy's touch seemed to indicate just that.

"No, Sir," Harry was quick to reply. "I've been afraid to touch anything less it turn to ash or soot or whatever that stuff is."

"A wise choice, Harry," Albus assured him, bringing a small smile from the boy at the unexpected praise. "I may have something, however, that will help in this matter." The aged wizard reached into his robes and extracted a pair of gloves, setting them upon the small table the tea service rested on.

Harry waited till the Headmaster had retracted his hands from the gloves before reaching out and hesitantly picking them up. When the gloves didn't suddenly dissolve in his grasp he took a closer look at them, realizing they were scaled. "What are they, Sir?" the awed boy asked as he turned the gloves over in his hands, admiring how supple they were.

"Gloves of course," Albus replied only to see the boy grin at the obvious answer. "They are made from the skin of the Basilisk, Harry. Do you know what that is?" Seeing the boy before him give a shake of his head, the Headmaster continued to explain. "The Basilisk is of the serpent family, however, it is very dangerous. If you were to look at one directly it would kill you instantly. The venom of the basilisk is also poisonous and a bite is near to be certain death."

"The ICW, International Confederation of Wizards," the Headmaster went one, "Do you know who they are?"

"They're much like the United Nations," Harry offered in way of a response. He had read about them in his History of Magic book. "It was the ICW who first resolved that the magicals should withdraw from society, back in the late 1600's, developing the International Statue of Secrecy."

"Very good," Albus praised with a warm smile. "Five points for Slytherin for such an astute answer. The ICW has heavy restrictions on who can breed and raise Basilisk. Their size is strictly controlled so that they do not get out of hand. They are not allowed to live past being six feet in length. One of the benefits to the Basilisk though is that it is incredibly resistant to magic. This makes its skin very sought after for such items as these gloves," Albus said with a gesture towards the items in Harry possession. "Please, try them on," he suggested.

Harry only hesitated a moment before slipping the gloves on. The inside of the gloves were cool and the material seemed to mold itself to his hands, fitting as if it were a second skin. "They fit perfectly!" Harry exclaimed in wonder, unable to believe that the gloves were not dissolving like everything else he touched.

Albus chuckled softly at the boy's reaction to the gloves. "That is one of the characteristics of the gloves, Harry. I dare say that were Hagrid to put them on they would fit him exactly as well." The aged wizard watched as the boy marveled at the gloves which came almost all the way to his elbows. "Give them a try," Albus suggested after a moment.

Looking up from his hands with a grin upon his face the boy gawked at the Headmaster in disbelief for a long moment. "Do you really think I can?" Harry enquired softly, fearful of even hoping.

"As with many things in life, there is only one way to know for certain," Albus told him, "and that is to try."

After another nod of encouragement from the Headmaster, Harry reached out and lifted his own tea cup. The young wizard grinned like a loon when nothing untold happened. "These are brilliant, Sir!" Harry exclaimed as he set the cup back down and regarded the gloves on his hands, turning the appendages about to see both sides. "I'll be able to be around my friends with these!"

Albus' smile at seeing the joyous youth slid from his face upon hearing Harry's words. As much as he hated to be the bearer of bad news he knew that he must. "I would strongly discourage you from such actions, Harry. It might be best for now if you remain apart from the others," Albus told him, saddening further as he saw the boy's face fall.

"B...but why?" Harry asked. "Can't I hang out with them now that I have these?" he begged, lifting his glove encased hands and wiggling his fingers slightly.

"Alas, I fear it would be for the best not to endanger them needlessly, Harry," said the Headmaster. Seeing the questioning look upon the boy's face Albus explained his reasoning. "Harry, you must understand, even though a Basilisk is very resistant to magic, it can be used to kill them. Just as spells were applied to those gloves to allow them to fit whomever wore them. A powerful enough wizard could get past the creature's own innate ability to resist magic. Your magic might possibly seep past the protection of the gloves. The results would be, dare I say, rather devastating I fear."

"But I'm just a first year!" Harry exclaimed in his own defense. He was certain that there was no way he could be as strong as the people the Headmaster was indicating, especially as he hardly knew anything about magic to begin with. _I'm just a kid. How could I possibly be as strong as an adult?_ It just didn't make sense to his eleven year old mind. Harry desperately wanted to see his friends.

"Normally I would agree, however there is the matter of the incident within the library as well as the troll you dealt with," Albus reminded Harry. "You have also more recently destroyed an ancient enchanted artifact, layered with numerous protective spells, as well as defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort's bid for the Stone." Albus watched the young boy deflate before his eyes as Harry realized the truth of the man's words. Wishing he did not have to, Albus asked the one question he knew would close the matter for good. "Harry, is it really worth the risk that your magic might actually be strong enough to break free and accidently injure one of your friends? Is your need so great to see them that you'd endanger one of them for it?"

Harry didn't even have to think to know the answer to the Headmaster's questions. "No, Sir," the young boy answered firmly, squaring his shoulders a bit and sitting up straighter in his chair. _Nothing would be worth that_ , he affirmed to himself. "Will I at least be able to sit classes, Sir?" Harry asked in a hopeful tone.

"I believe that would be for the best both for your education as well as for halting the rumor mill," Albus agreed. "However, I do caution you about getting close to anyone, Harry. If you should notice any changed in your touch at all you are to come directly to Madam Pomfrey, who will then contact me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry assured him.

"In the mean time you will continue to remain here away from everyone else while we attempt to determine a more long term permanent solution to the current issue." The Headmaster looked about the room quickly, noting the absence of any other furnishings besides the bed and the chairs. "I'll see that a desk is added so that you can work on your school work here. If you should have need to use the library I would suggest the use of a certain item that once belonged to your father."

The Headmaster sighed and got to his feet to leave. "I realize this is not easy for you, Harry. Friends are very important when we are young and growing up. I dare say they are just as important when we are grown and continuing to get older," he imparted to the boy, eliciting a small smile in return. "We must sometime protect that which is most precious to us," Albus continued in a more serious tone. "Often at the expense of our own happiness."

"I understand," Harry replied, willing to go to any length to protect his friends. "Thank you, Professor, for the gloves." The Headmaster gave a small nod with a caring smile before turning and letting himself out the room. Harry waited several minutes before dashing from the room and heading toward the boy's loo at a run.

**-oOo-**

"Professor Flitwick?" Harry voiced as soon as class was over. "I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time," he asked of the small man. Yesterday it had been easy enough to avoid his friends. A late arrival to Transfiguration allowed him to take a seat in the back of the room. He had used his time of isolation to practice the spell they were to do and hence was able to perform it on his first try and leave class early. After a hasty lunch in his new room he sat the afternoon class, History of Magic, by spending the entire time under his father's cloak in a seat nearest the door. While it had been easy it had also been painful, even more so as he knew that his avoidance was hurting the others as well as himself.

He had arrived early to Charms class this morning and seated himself closest to the Professor's desk. Harry had kept his invisibility cloak on as its long length covered him as well as the chair he sat in. Arriving students, seeing no chair, didn't bother to try and sit at the desk. Bending below the desk as if retrieving a dropped item he had hastily pulled off his cloak before sitting up again just as class was starting. A quick discreet glance showed him that the Outsiders were all seated nearest the door with an empty seat between Tracey and Hermione, presumably for him.

Filius Flitwick turned at the sound of his name being called and smiled upon hearing the young boy's request. "Perhaps in my office, Mr. Potter?" he suggested, well aware of the many staring eyes that were watching them. Harry gave a nod and a small thankful smile before preceding the wizard into offered sanctuary. "What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?" Filius asked once the door had been closed and he had taken his seat behind his desk. "The Headmaster has informed us not to ask you any questions but that doesn't mean that you can't ask us some," the small professor added with a welcoming smile.

"Yes, Sir," replied Harry a bit nervously. He hadn't realized that the Headmaster had asked the staff members to leave him be. "I was curious if there was a way to disenchant things?" Harry asked, getting right to the point.

"There are counter spells, assuming you know which enchantment you're attempting to remove," the professor answered as he ran one hand absently through his beard. "I hope you're not referring to the Basilisk gloves you're wearing. Their quite expensive and very hard to enchant due to the Basilisk's nature of resisting magic. It would be a shame to damage such a lovely pair," he said as he eyed the gloves on Harry's hands.

"No, Sir," Harry assured him, slipping his gloved hands into the sleeves of his robe in an attempt to hide them from sight. "But if you didn't know what enchantment was used? If you wanted to make an object so that it was incapable of having any magic, is that possible?" Harry enquired.

"That is an exceptionally intelligent question, Mr. Potter," Filius praised the boy. The small man once again had the feeling that Harry should have been sorted into his House instead of Slytherin. "I won't say that it can't be done," he mused aloud. "I have heard tell of an area in Australia where neither magic nor Muggle electricity work at all. According to local legend it is the result of some magical battle that took place long ago, if you're inclined to believe what the locals say," he finished with a disarming smile.

"So then it is possible," Harry pressed. In attempting to figure a way he could spend time with his friends he had latched on to the idea that if he could just dispel the magic in his hands then he wouldn't pose a threat to them. Things could go back to how they were before all of this started.

"Am I correct in assuming you have a reason for asking this?" Filius asked, fixing the young wizard with a shrewd stare. "Something to do with your hands, perhaps?" Seeing Harry's eyes grow large in shock at having been found out the man chuckled. "Come now, it wasn't all that difficult to discern. Why else would you be wearing Basilisk gloves?" the Heads of Ravenclaw asked.

For some reason he wasn't certain of, Harry asked his next question. "Would you like to see?" Perhaps the young wizard, feeling shut off from everyone else just desired to share his secret with someone else. Since obtaining the gloves Harry had become a bit more accustom to the affliction. It helped that he could once again touch things and lead a somewhat normal life. Also, just as with all small boys, there was a strong sense of curiosity to see what exactly he could do with it. A suit of armor, a corner of a tapestry and the stone railing to a stairway could already attest to his experimentation.

"Oh yes! Most certainly!" Filius exclaimed excitedly, always happy to see or discover something new.

"I'll need something you'll not miss," Harry told the expectant professor. "I'm afraid that it won't be much good to you when I'm done with it.

Filius rummaged around in a desk drawer for a long moment. "I know it's in here someplace," the man mumbled to himself as he shifted the drawer's contents about. "Ah! Here it is!" he exclaimed triumphantly before sitting back up and setting a crystal ball before the boy. Seeing Harry's quizzical look the professor explained. "Professor Trelawney, she teaches Divination, gave this to me. I haven't got a use for it. If my inner-eye hasn't opened by now it probably never will," he confessed.

Harry had no clue who Professor Trelawney was or what an inner-eye was so he simply gave a short nod and said nothing. Slipping the Basilisk glove from his right hand Harry reached out and laid it atop the glass ball. In a matter of seconds it had disintegrated into a pile of black ash like everything else he had touched had done. Harry looked up with a grin from his handy work only to see the Professor staring at him in disbelief. "Professor?" Harry hesitantly voiced.

"When Sybill gave me that," Filius started with only to pause and swallow heavily, "she told me that it probably wouldn't amount to more than a pile of ashes," he confessed. "Quite remarkable," the stunned professor added as his eyes dropped to the pile of ashes on his desk.

"About my question, Professor," Harry prodded gently as he slipped his glove back on.

"What? Oh yes," Filius spoke as he mentally shook off his surprise. The small man wasn't the Head of Ravenclaw just because they needed someone to be. The professor had an intelligence that was vastly higher than average. He needed it to keep up with the students placed within his House after all. "If it were possible to disenchant your hands I fear it might actually be detrimental to you being a wizard, Mr. Potter."

Harry didn't even wonder how the man had figured out what his questioning was in regards to. He was a professor after all and hence had to be smart. "How so, Professor?"

"Well, it is widely believed," Filius opened with, dropping into lecture mode, "that the magic we use is held within us. When we cast a spell, the magic flows through our bodies, down our arm and out through our wands. Much like water from a spigot. If your hands were made so that they couldn't hold magic at all then it is conceivably possible that you wouldn't be able to use your magic any longer."

Harry digested that bit of news for a long moment. While it was a possible option, it wasn't a pleasant one. Still, it was far better than going through the rest of his life without ever touching anything with his own two hands ever again. The gloves were fine for now but he certainly didn't want to be wearing them for the remainder of his days. "Thank you, Sir. You've been very helpful," Harry final said.

"What of your other issue?" Filius enquired. "Still hearing you magic?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied softly. He really didn't like to talk about his accidental magic. Truth be told it still frightened him, though thanks to his latest aliment, it had been relegated to a back burner for the time being.

"I did a bit of research on the matter but have as yet been able to find anything," Professor Flitwick told him. "There have been a couple of cases where people have expressed the ability to see magic but none were ever proven. For the most part the people were written off as being a bit bent."

"Am I, Sir? A bit bent, I mean," Harry asked, fearful of the answer.

"I don't believe so, Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick answered after a long thoughtful moment. "You are an exceptionally intelligent young man. Given your background it wouldn't be surprising for something unusual to happen. As I believe I mentioned once before, no one has survive a Killing Curse before you. There really is no way of knowing just what impact that could have on you. Have you noticed any changes in what you hear? Perhaps during the troll incident?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "No, Sir. It still starts out softly like a small breeze or running water and then it grows till it drowns out everything else. After that I really don't recall very much, just bits and pieces." Harry paused looking deep in thought for another long moment. "It did seem to happen quicker when I was with Professor Quirrell and Voldemort appeared," the small boy confided.

"Perhaps that was because you felt your life was I danger," Filius managed to get out in a normal tone though he couldn't have been more stunned if the boy had just hit him with a bludger. In those few small words the boy had confessed to coming face to face with one of the foulest Dark Lords known in history. To make matters worse it had happened right here at Hogwarts and none of the staff had been given any of the details.

"Perhaps," Harry was quick to agree to the logical assumption. "I didn't black-out that time as well," Harry confessed, though he wished he had. Not seeing Professor Quirrell's death would have been a blessing he felt.

Filius decided to make certain that Harry had in fact been the one who had confronted Voldemort. "Did you enjoy chasing the key?" he asked with a forced smile. "For a good seeker I'd imagine it wasn't too difficult."

"Was that yours, Professor?" Harry asked only to receive a quick nod that it was from the man across the desk from him. "I'm sure that would have been loads of fun, Sir. When I got there though all the keys were on the ground, twitching a bit actually," he ended with in a perplexed tone.

_Must have been a wide area stunner_ , Filius mused to himself. _I should have thought of that even with the amount of power it would have taken to accomplish._ "Still, good show on your part, Mr. Potter," the professor said aloud, certain now at least somewhat of what had happened. "If anything should change with your magic or if you think of additional questions, my door is always open to you."

"Thank you, Sir," Harry replied as he grabbed his book bag and headed to his room in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. Apparently his feet had other ideas and lead him about till he was standing before a different door.

**-oOo-**

Harry reached up and knocked upon the door, waiting to open it till he had heard the voice within call for him to enter. "Excuse me, Professor. I hope I am not interrupting you?" he asked once he stepped through the door and into the office.

Aurora Sinistra's lips spread into a warm and welcoming smile. "Of course not, Mr. Potter. Merely dealing with the bane of all teachers the world over," she said as she lifted an essay she was grading, "Paper work. Do come in," she instructed the first year student who had remained near the door. "What can I do for you?"

Harry didn't make any attempt to approach his favorite teacher but rather remained by the door instead. "I won't be able to make tomorrow's lesson. Is there anything specific I should revise?" the young wizard asked.

"The Headmaster did mention that you might have to forego class for a while," Aurora informed him. She knew there was something amiss in the simple fact that Harry had to miss class, however her hands were rather tied at the moment. The Headmaster had been very clear on the matter and they were not to interfere or ask questions of the boy. "I'm certain your friends will let you borrow their notes."

The first year wizard looked down at his feet before he replied. "I don't think that will be possible as I can't be around them either, professor," Harry told her. It was rather clear from the tone of his voice that this fact did not sit well with him.

Aurora didn't like the at all. "Harry, is this by your choice?" she asked, wanting to make certain that he wasn't perhaps being forced into staying away from the others in his group. For the life of her she couldn't think of a reason why the Headmaster would want to isolate the boy though. _He just started making friends and now he has to stay away from them?_

_How do I answer that?_ Harry wondered. _It's not as if I want to be like this_ , he thought as he stared at his hands which were barely visible tucked just within the folds of his robes. _But I also don't want to place the others at risk either_ , he admitted to himself. "Y…yes," he finally managed to stammer. "It is my decision," he told her, looking up at the witch seated behind the desk rather defiantly.

"How are they taking it?" Aurora enquired, guessing she already knew the answer. If she knew the three witches who were always in the boy's company Aurora was certain they were not taking it well.

Harry lost a little of his resolve as once again his eyes fell to the floor. "I don't know," he mumbled before giving a small shrug of his shoulder. "I guess not well. I haven't really spoken to them since they got back," he confessed.

"How would you feel if one of your friends suddenly stopped talking to you for no reason?" Aurora asked. She could see that the young wizard was distraught over the matter and realized that at age eleven she herself would have had no clue as to what to say or do if she had been in Harry's position.

Harry's head shot up at her words. "But it's not for no reason!" he exclaimed. "It's to protect them!" he added a bit defensively. The only thing that made his separation from the other Outsiders was the very fact that it was for their own protection.

Professor Sinistra nodded in understanding even though that was the farthest thing from where she currently was. "You still haven't answered my question, Harry. How would you feel?" she pressed in a calm and even tone, not wishing to spook the wizard in front of her.

The young boy seemed to deflate right before her eyes. "Not good I suppose," he mumbled as he shuffled his feet a bit.

"I'm sure they are confused and hurt because they don't understand," Aurora stated.

"Are they?" Harry enquired, looking up with large sad eyes even as he realized that she was probably correct. _It wouldn't feel very good if one of them just suddenly stopped speaking to me and avoided me._ The young boy recalled what it had been like just recently when Hermione had started staying as far away from him as possible for no apparent reason. Whatever Daphne had said to the Gryffindor witch seemed to have solved the problem at the time.

"I don't know, having only just returned myself from holiday," Aurora replied truthfully. "I suspect that I'll find out at tomorrow's class. Is there anything you'd like me to pass along to them?" she offered, more than willing to play go between for the boy if that was what it took.

Harry thought for a long moment on what he could have her tell the other Outsiders that wouldn't give anything away. The Headmaster had cautioned him about revealing his affliction others. "No," he finally answered with a slow shake of his head, deciding he didn't want to risk getting them into trouble. "C...can you let me know though if they're alright?" Harry asked instead.

Aurora sighed internally. _I didn't think it would be that easy_ , she thought upon being turned down. "Of course Mr. Potter, though I am certain they would be more than happy to tell you themselves if you would allow them."

"It is too dangerous," Harry declined once again. "Thank you Professor," he told her before slipping from the room. On his way back to the hospital wing Harry pondered the professor's words and thought about just how the other Outsiders must be feeling.

The Astronomy Professor watched him go sadly, wishing there was more she could do for the boy. _No kiss this time_? she teased herself but even that wasn't enough to lift her spirits or bring a smile to her face.

**-oOo-**

The Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards was not a glamorous job, Albus thought to himself as he eyed the rather large pile of parchments on his desk. It entailed long hours of reading through boring documents submitted by pompous committees, each trying to outdo the other in the latest round of political tug of war. He couldn't help but wonder if Pierre Bonaccord, the first Supreme Mugwump, had to read as many petitions as he now did.

Slipping a lemon drop from his ever present candy dish and popping it into his mouth the elder wizard sat back in his chair, ignoring the work awaiting his for the moment. As had been happening more and more of late, his thoughts turned towards his student, Harry Potter. The Headmaster felt terrible about the boy's plight.

_If this truly is the Power he knows not, I must figure out a way for Harry to control it_ , Albus mused as he sucked upon the tart treat. It just wouldn't do to have the Hero of the Wizarding world running about turning everything to ash. Though Tom's attempt to gain the stone had be thwarted, Albus knew that the dark wizard was far from gone. Which makes it all the more imperative that Harry gain control of his magic.

The incident with the books had been somewhat amusing, however that amusement had vanished come the night of All Hallows Eve and the incident with the troll. The sheer amount of magical energy required to accomplish that feat was staggering considering that trolls were notoriously difficult to kill. _To think that one so young would be capable of such a thing_ , Albus thought in renewed wonder.

The glimpses of the battle with Quirrell and the specter of Voldemort that he had pulled from the boy's mind were just short of awe inspiring. Albus, in all his years of teaching, had never seen anything like it before. That fact alone both amazed as well as frightened the aged wizard. "Such a powerful young wizard must be brought to the side of the Light!" Albus stated aloud.

The question wasn't how to keep Harry with the Light, that part was easy enough. Albus knew all he had to do was mention the fact that the boy's parents had fought for the Light side and he had little doubt that the boy would jump at the chance to do the same. No, the more serious problem was how to train the boy.

_Harry's magic certainly doesn't seem to be of the caliber we're used to seeing in a first year student_ , Albus thought. Having spoken with Harry's professors he had discovered that the boy was able to learn at an alarming rate, often picking up spells on his first attempt, with the exception of the incident in the library or course. Still, Harry's accidental magic, if that was what it truly is, certainly is cause for concern.

The Headmaster sighed and turned back to the waiting work on his desk, having put it off long enough. Albus knew he wasn't going to solve the enigma that was Harry Potter today. Best to keep a watchful eye on the boy for now and see what happens next. With great reluctance the aged wizard picked up the first document and started to read it.

It was several hours later that the gargoyle at the foot of the stairs alerted him to the arrival of a visitor. Albus looked up from the ICW document he was reading and called for his Potions Master to enter upon hearing a knock upon his door. "Good evening, Severus. What can I do for you?"

"Good evening, Headmaster," Severus replied with a slight tipping of his head. "I was wondering if I might have a few moments of your time to discuss the Potter boy?"

Albus set the document down atop the pile he had slowly been working his way through. "I am always available to discuss one of our students," he replied as he gestured to the chair that appeared. The aged wizard was all too glad to take a break from the rather dry topics of political documents stacked on the desk before him. "Was there something in particular about Mister Potter you wished to discuss?"

"How long do you plan on leaving him this way," Severus asked, cutting right to the chase of the matter once he had been seated. "It isn't well for the boy to be so cut-off from everyone including his friends," Severus stated, recalling all too well his own years of isolation in his youth. "He's a walking hazard and it is only a matter of time before he injures himself or someone else," he added to cover his concern for the boy.

"Madam Pomfrey is working diligently to determine just what the cause of Harry's aliment is," Albus assured Severus, seeing through the rather hasty deception. "As of yet she and her colleagues have been unable to make much progress though," the Headmaster stated a bit disappointed in that fact. He was rather surprised by the concern Severus was showing and could only hope that it meant that he was seeing Harry as more than just James's son.

"But you already have a theory as what the cause is do you not?" the shrewd Potions Master stated rather than asked. Severus knew the Headmaster well enough to know that the man had plans within plans within plans and he was loth to share any of that information with those around him. _It's harder to get information from the Headmaster than it is to get to a goblin to willing part with a galleon!_

"I have several," Albus admitted with a slow nod of his head. "Whatever Lily Potter used to protect Harry with that night has been altered in some manner is my leading one," he explained.

Snape looked thoughtful for a long moment before disagreeing. "I find it hard to believe, Headmaster, that Lily would have used anything that would have put her son in danger. Whatever old magic she used, assuming she used any at all, which we're not certain of, would have been for his protection. Lily would not have wanted Harry to become a killer."

"I agree, however we don't know what Harry's own magic may have done to that protection," Albus pointed out. "I'm certain it was not Lily's intention but then magic can do the most unexpected and amazing things." Seeing the Potions Master's skeptical frown he continued. "The alternative is so unthinkable as to make is even less likely."

"That an eleven year old firstie is doing both wandless as well as silent magic on such a powerful scale," Snape said, completing the Headmaster's thought. He couldn't recall of ever hearing of another eleven year old doing such a thing, not even Voldemort.

"Why the sudden concern for Harry?" Albus asked out of the blue, catching the Potions Master flatfooted for a second.

Severus stared blankly back at the Headmaster for a long moment before he formulated a response. "Potter is of my house. I would be remise in my duties if I were not concerned, Headmaster," he finally replied. Severus knew that wasn't all the truth. _If not for a twist of fate the boy may have very well have been my son_ , he thought with some degree of anger directed towards James Potter for stealing away his Lily. It was subject of which the pain never dulled. No matter how many years passed.

Albus regarded the professor across from him for a long moment. He didn't need Legilimancy to know exactly what was going through the wizards mind. With a slight nod the Headmaster accepted the contrived answer. "Be that as it may, Severus, there is little we can do for the boy at this time. Till Poppy determines what the cause of the aliment is we are rather stuck I fear."

"I understand, Headmaster," Severus stated as he stood. "Thank you for taking the time to explain it to me. You will keep me apprised of any changes to the situation?"

"Certainly," Albus confirmed. "If there is anything we can do for Harry, you'll let me know."

Severus answered with a curt nod before letting himself out of the office. "He's not telling everything he knows," the potions professor mused as he walked along the corridor. Severus snorted humorlessly at the very thought of the Headmaster divulging a single tidbit of information more than he needed to. "The old fool," he mumbled under his breath in frustration. That didn't keep the man from recalling that the Headmaster was his best bet at the revenge against Voldemort that he wanted and was willing to do just about anything to achieve.

As the wizard walked along heading to his office he couldn't help put to ponder the Headmasters words. _Wandless and wordless?_ he mused silently. _From all accounts from his friends he attacked the troll with wandless and wordless magic_ , Severus recalled. As there was no benefit from falsifying such information he had no choice but to believe it was factual. The fact that two of those present had been his own Snaked added credence to the account.

_Let us not forget the incident in the library_ , he reminded himself of. _While not wandless, and a rather weak transfiguration spell, it still required a great deal of energy to change so many books at once_ , he admitted. _Too bad the Granger girl couldn't remember if Potter had said the spell or not._ The more the wizard pondered these events the more realistic the unrealistic probability became.

_Still, if he was performing wordless and wandless magic then he should be able to control it_ , Severus concluded as he descended the stairs into the dungeon and headed toward his office. _Unless it's his magic acting on its own_ , that thought alone sent a shiver down the man's spine. Magic was not a force one let run lose as it often had devastating consequences. Others through history had become slave to their own magic and on those occasions, when it happen, it had never been a happy ending.

_I guess I shall have to have a talk with Potter and see if I can determine if that is the case this time._ Severus hoped that it wasn't. As he neared his office he saw one of his snakes waiting there for him. "Mister Flint, is there something I can help you with?" he asked noticing rather quickly that the boy was agitated.

"We need a new Seeker, Professor," Flint said coming directly to the point.

Severus arched a brow, "I was under the impression that Potter was our Seeker?"

"He quit!" snapped Flint, forgetting for a second just who he was speaking to.

Opening the door to his office the Potion's Master motioned for the bay to proceed him through. Closing the door behind the both of them, Snape made his way around his desk and sat in his seat. "Perhaps it would be best to tell me what happened, Mister Flint."

"The little shite stopped me outside the great hall just a bit ago and told me he couldn't play anymore," Flint spat out, clearly angry at the very thought of Harry's betrayal. That was how Flint saw it anyways. They didn't even have a backup Seeker they could train without shifting a player from another position.

"You will use a proper tone and language with me, Mister Flint or I shall find myself a new team captain!" Snape scolded the boy who looked properly chastised. "Did he say why he wouldn't be able to play?"

"Just that it would be too dangerous. I think he's afraid of getting another trouncing if he were to botch the snitch again as he did last game. I tried to chase after him but he managed to get away from me," Flint stated, clearly putout that a mere first year was able to get away from him. He still wasn't certain how the boy managed to simply vanish as soon as he had stepped around the corner.

"You didn't think that you chasing after him might have scared him into running even faster?" Snape asked with a sneer. "Your incompetence as a captain is astounding, Mister Flint. Maybe we'd just be better off exceeding from the House Cup this year?" Snape asked sarcastically.

"No Sir!" Flint exclaimed. _I'll be damned if we'll break our winning streak due to some snot nosed firstie! Next time I'll make certain he stays under the water_ , Flint thought behind his schooled expression. "We will win the House Cup!"

"Yes, yes we will," Snape finally agreed after a long pause. "Despite your inability to field a united team. You have less than six weeks till our next game against Flitwick's Claws. Now get out of here as I am certain you have more than enough to do to get ready!"

Flint knew a dismissal when he heard one and hastily made his way to the door where he paused. Turning back the Quidditch captain asked, "What about Potter, Professor?"

"Do not worry about Potter," Snape answered not even bothering to look up from the parchment he was reading, "I will deal with him."

"Yes, Sir," said Flint before beating a hasty retreat from the office. "Looks like we'll need extra practices," he said aloud, already drawing up some new plays to try. The wizard knew that Snape would get Potter to play again, one way of another. "Once he's in the air on his broom, well, accidents happen all the time," the boy grinned evilly.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the wonderful and extremely large world known as PotterVerse. As many authors here, I am merely a fan of the series and relish the chance to play within the sandbox JKR was wonderful enough to create for us. Please be kind and overlook my treatment of all the characters we know and love. If you find you can't overlook my transgressions then I merely beg a five minute head start before you brandish the torches and pitchforks.
> 
> In terms of my Potter knowledge I am a novice to say the least. I hope you will take that under advisement when reading and reviewing (hopefully) this story. While events from canon will appear in this tapestry I am in no manner attempting to write what has already been written. Rather I hope to reweave the existing tale while keeping it interesting as well as entertaining enough to retain your attention till the very end.
> 
> The Muse, being what she is, a creature both as wonderful as she is fickle…well, let us just say that this story will be updated as often as she wills it. Given that she is involved in several other projects I can't, in all honesty, say how frequently that shall be.
> 
> As always, though certainly not required, I do appreciate any and all reviews. They really do motivate me to write more! Seriously!
> 
> Kind Regards,
> 
> EJ Daniels
> 
> All characters within this story, unless otherwise stated are the sole property of J. K. Rowling the original writer of the Harry Potter series.


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